Storm Bringer
by Rhapsody's Song
Summary: Title changed...again AG George, a master thief is an orphan and grows up with his best friend, Tavia. He meets the noble lady, Alanna one day on one of his exploits and they instantly hit it off. Only problem is, she's betrothed to Prince Jonathon...
1. Chapter 1

A/N: George isn't King of Thieves in this. I just gave him the nickname of the Rogue. Also, I don't hate Jon, it's just that the character that I'm putting as him was really evil. Hehe for anyone who's been reading, I've decided to consolidate (ooo big word) all 3 chapters into one. Thanks to my reviewers!! Love ya lots!!!  
  
Disclaimer: This is not really an original story. I saw a really good movie series in Chinese and decided to translate it. The Tortallan characters (which belong to Tamora Pierce) seemed to fit the characters in the movie almost perfectly so I decided to use them.  
  
"Good morning," called the captain of the guard, Goban Corvell, to his men.  
  
"Good morning, sir," they all replied.  
  
It was an important day. The stable of Naxen was housing the beautiful stallion, Blizzard. It was to be Prince Jonathan of Conté's wedding gift. The horse was caught in a canyon full of wild horses and was said to be fast as lightning and wild as the wind. Many thieves wanted to get their hands on this magnificent horse, so it had to be very closely guarded.  
  
Just then, one of the stable hands gave a shout and pointed up at the sky. Goban looked up and noticed an unusually large flock of birds. By this time, the rest of the guards were looking up as well. All of a sudden, the birds flew at the men, diving at everything that moved. Men shouted in alarm and some were praying, believing that demons had possessed the birds.  
  
"Everybody stay calm!" shouted Goban. "Don't Panic!"  
  
Amidst the havoc, a young man in his early twenties jumped onto the roof and slipped into the barn, unnoticed. He jumped silently off the rafters of the stable and onto the floor with the ease of long practice. He walked over to the horse to give it a good inspection with his expert eye.  
  
"The rumors are true about you, boy, aren't they?" he said giving out a whistle of appreciation as he ran his hand down the sleek muscular back of the beast. He had no worries about being heard for he'd been doing this for a while and the birds that he'd spelled to listen to him would definitely keep the men busy for at least another few minutes. He would be long gone by then if everything went according to plan.  
  
As he neared the rear on his examination, the horse kicked out at him. His quick reflexes saved him just in time.  
  
"Tsk, tsk. You are a naughty horse," he said as he walked to the front to consult the horse. "Alright then," he said forgetting about it. "We'd best get going now,"  
  
The young man untied the reins from the post and began to walk out, expecting the horse to follow as they were usually trained to do. He'd forgotten, however, that this particular horse had just been caught two weeks ago and had not had the time to be trained properly, only tamed. The horse didn't budge. He went around the back, once again, this time carefully avoiding the hooves, to see if there was anything else tethering the horse that he hadn't noticed. There was nothing.  
  
Confused, he tried again, pulling harder. This time, the horse reared and tried to strike out with his front hooves letting out a loud scream at the same time.  
  
Now you've done it, thought the thief. He wasn't really bothered about fighting the men since they were all just poorly trained soldiers who knew little about fighting. It was a great nuisance, though, to try and get Blizzard out now through all the people. Too late now, he thought as the barn door opened and the first men came at him with raised swords.  
  
Jumping up, he grabbed one of the low-hanging rafters. Swinging himself forward, he kicked out at the first line of guards. They were sent tumbling backwards. He pulled himself up onto the rafter and turned to meet the onslaught of guards that had gotten up by way of staircase. Here, they could only come at him one by one because of the narrow beams. He easily kicked the first one aside and knocked his sword, hilt first, into the next causing them both to tumble to the ground in an ungraceful heap. He punched the third man in the face, causing him to lose a few teeth.  
  
By now, guards had gotten up the other staircase and were coming towards him from behind as well. Time to go, thought the young man, jumping down off the wooden beam onto Blizzard's back. Since the guards had mostly gone up to the loft to try and catch him, the stable ground was now pretty empty save for the two or three men who had chosen to stay. The sudden weight dropping onto its back caused Blizzard to rear. The guards that were on the floor scrambled aside to avoid the flailing hooves as the thief grabbed the horse's mane to keep himself from falling.  
  
He slapped the horse's hindquarters and it took broke out of the stable. Outside, chaos still reigned, but some were still able to get up and try to stop him. He dodged a sword that was sloppily swung at him and kicked the offender with his foot. Blizzard panicked and decided to break into a gallop with the man barely holding on for dear life. Regaining his balance, he whistled to the birds that instantly stopped plaguing the guards and flew off. Blizzard jumped the low fence easily and they were out. Turning back, he smiled cheekily. He waved goodbye but had to quickly grab the reins again as Blizzard tried to buck him off again.  
  
Goban and his men chased the thief out the gate, but they stopped there, knowing that it would be futile to try and catch any galloping horse on foot, much less Blizzard, one of the fastest horses in all of Tortall. Turning back reluctantly, Goban noticed a piece of paper stuck to the gate. Reading it, his eyes widened and he hurried inside to hand it to the duke.  
  
Duke Gareth senior frowned as he read the piece of paper that Goban had just handed him.  
  
"'George Cooper, the Rogue'," read Duke Gareth aloud. The paper had the picture of a crown it.  
  
~***~  
  
George tried his best to hang on to the stallion as it galloped through the forest.  
  
"Whoa!" he shouted over and over again, but Blizzard wouldn't listen. George slapped its neck in frustration. Suddenly, it skidded to a halt. Not expecting this, George was thrown off. He quickly righted himself in mid- air and landed on his feet. He ran a hand through his brown hair as he glared at the horse.  
  
"Shame, shame," he said. "You are a bad horse." Just then, a brown mare trotted by. Lightning turned around and meekly trotted after it, leaving George staring in shock. "It's tame."  
  
A black haired girl with green eyes stepped out from behind a tree.  
  
"Hey, Tavia," said George, recognizing her. "How'd you do it?"  
  
"Heard from the stable master that Blizzard was wild as the storm but became as tame as a kitten when mares were nearby," said Tavia, giving a sigh of mock exasperation and George stuck his tongue out at her.  
  
~***~  
  
"Hurry up and clean this mess up!" shouted Goban. His men hurried to do what he said. Suddenly, the workers near the entrance paused, staring at something. Eventually, the crowd parted to reveal a black haired woman in her mid twenties. She had striking green eyes and a slim body.  
  
"Wow..."  
  
"So beautiful..."  
  
"Will you marry me...?"  
  
She smiled shyly at the guards thinking, Ugh, how pathetic. She walked forward until she reached the front step of the main entrance where more drooling men waited. Standing in front was a short boy, seeming to be about seventeen. He had brown hair and brown eyes and was wearing clothes of a slightly better quality than that of the guards.  
  
"Who's in charge here?" asked the girl.  
  
"Who wants to know?" asked the boy.  
  
"Perhaps I've come to the wrong place," said Tavia, feigning uncertainty. "One would expect a well known place such as Naxen to treat guests with a little more respect. I must have come to the wrong place. I guess I'll take Blizzard and go sell him somewhere else then..." She turned as if to leave.  
  
"Wait!" said the boy, manner completely different. "You have Blizzard?"  
  
Tavia bent down as if whispering a secret. "If you have the money, then I have him, but if you don't, then someone else has him. Got it?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am," he replied quickly. He led to a waiting room inside. It was comfortably furnished with two large a few large chairs and a round table in the middle with tea and pastries on it. "I'm Faron, the personal servant of Duke Gareth the Younger. Wait here for a moment as I go and get him." Tavia nodded.  
  
Moments later, a large young man with chestnut hair and eyes came out. Tavia put down the cup of tea that she had helped herself to and patted her mouth daintily with her handkerchief.  
  
"Hello," he said. She's beautiful, he thought. Hey! Don't think like that! You're a gentleman and she's only here for business. Yeah, but maybe afterward...Just stop!  
  
"Hi," she replied, looking him over.  
  
"Who are you?" asked Gareth after a long silence.  
  
"I am here for business, Master Gareth, not social enjoyment."  
  
"Alright then, but please, call me Gary."  
  
"Gary then," said Tavia, smiling. "So you want Blizzard, right?"  
  
"How much do you want?" he asked, seeing that she didn't want to beat around the bush.  
  
"100 gold nobles," she said.  
  
Faron's mouth dropped. "100 gold nobles?! My master can't even spend 10 copper nobles without considering it for ages and you—" he was cut off by the duke who seemed surprised for a moment but then smiled and said, "No horse in the world is worth 100 nobles. Surely you must be jesting, my lady,"  
  
"Well," said Tavia, seductively. "Whether Blizzard is worth 100 nobles or not, I don't know, but being the big wedding gift for his majesty's wedding, I think he would be very disappointed if your father were to announce that it has gone missing. Don't you?"  
  
"B-But..." Gary was left speechless.  
  
"Careful, Your Grace," whispered Faron. "She's trying to trick you! Be strong!"  
  
"Oh whatever," said Tavia with a drastic mood change that threw the men off once more. "You're a nice lookin' guy. Tell you what, I don't want your money, and I'll even deliver Blizzard to Prince Jonathan personally."  
  
"Wow," said Faron, somewhat amazed. "Who would have thought that someone with looks like yours could be considered a 'nice lookin' guy'?"  
  
"Shut up!" hissed Gary, shoving him away in annoyance.  
  
"And," she continued cheerfully, ignoring them, "I'll be sure to cook it just right, too."  
  
"C-Cook?" stuttered Faron. She turned and began to walk out, still mumbling to herself about spices to use.  
  
Faron and Gary exchanged horrified glances.  
  
"Wait!" shouted Gary, running to catch up with her. In his haste, he accidentally ran into her, and as he put his arms out to stop himself, they accidentally encircled her waist. Tavia found herself looking up at his face. As soon as he realized what had happened, he quickly released her, blushing furiously. Strong, she thought, and muscular too, but too much of a blockhead. Tavia looked down and pretended to be embarrassed. She didn't really care that much. She had long ago learned that she had to sacrifice a little to get what she wanted. She knew, also, how to defend herself and to keep 'sacrificing a little' from going too far.  
  
"Sorry," said Gary quickly, still looking quite mortified. "Um..."  
  
"Was there somethin' else you needed?" asked Tavia.  
  
"I-I-I agree," said Gary, finally making up his mind. "100 gold nobles it is. Faron, go get the payment."  
  
"B-But, Your Grace—" stuttered Faron.  
  
"Just go!" he said firmly, giving Faron a glare. Faron gave a hmph and stalked away to get the large sum, muttering under his breath the entire way.  
  
"Well, business is done," proclaimed Tavia. "You're a smart man. I think we can be friends. My name is Tavia."  
  
"Nice to meet you, Tavia," said Gary thinking, Wow, what a pretty name. Just then, Faron returned with a bag of nobles. Tavia took it quickly and began to count them. "Well, you live in the city, right?"  
  
"Mm," replied Tavia, not really listening.  
  
"Um... Maybe I could come visit you sometime," said Gary hesitantly.  
  
"Yea, sure," said Tavia, still not really listening.  
  
"Okay," said Gary. "I'll see you around then."  
  
"Mm-hm,"  
  
"Alright," she looked up, done counting the coins. "Blizzard is in the Foxwood Forest to the north of Lake Naxen."  
  
"Wait," said Gary, "don't you have him?"  
  
Tavia looked up at him as if he'd just grown horns and said, "Did I say I had him? I just saw someone bringin' him there, that's all!" Gary and Faron were speechless. "Alright, if there's nothin' else, I'll be leavin' now," she said, and without another word, she walked out.  
  
She didn't notice Gary's eyes following her until she was out of view. Only then, did he look down to find that she had accidentally dropped her handkerchief. "Tavia, wait. You dropped your—" he tried to call, but she was too far away to hear. Oh well, he thought, maybe she'll come back for it. He hoped she would.  
  
~***~  
  
George pulled up the reins of his chestnut mare, Beauty, in front of a simple house. He jumped off and walked into the small cottage. Tavia met him at the door.  
  
"So did they find Blizzard?" she asked.  
  
"Found him and took him back," he replied, smiling.  
  
Tavia hurried over to the table where she picked up two bags. "Yours, mine," she said, handing him one of them and keeping the other for herself. George looked in the bag and whistled at the amount he saw.  
  
"Who'd of thought that the Prince's weddin' gift provided us with enough money to comfortably live for an entire year," he said, happily.  
  
"What's the big deal about Blizzard? What's the big deal about Prince Jonathan?" said Tavia, impatiently. "I know somethin' that will make us rich. We could live like royalty!"  
  
"Oh," said George, not really caring. He knew that glint in her eye. She had heard of something else for him to rob. He didn't really mind. In fact, he liked the challenge, but lately, he'd been getting restless. It seemed he would live out the rest of his life like this. It wasn't a bad life, but he wanted more. "What might that be?" he asked, fidgeting with his favorite knife.  
  
"None other than The Storm Bringer," she said dramatically.  
  
"You mean that famous sword that supposedly disappeared fifty years ago?" He balanced the tip of his knife on his index finger, skillfully not cutting his finger at all.  
  
"Yes, yes" she replied, her eyes blazing impatiently.  
  
"Hmm," he mumbled, still concentrating on his knife. Growing irritated, Tavia snatched the blade away. "Hey!"  
  
"Look," she said, trying a different tactic. "If you won't do it for yourself, do it for Master Miller, who had to send his daughter to the convent," she said, naming one of the city dwellers that they sometimes helped out with the excess money that they'd gotten. "or Mistress Barns, who just had a baby, or Master Rodder who can't work anymore because of his arthritis, or—" George held up a hand and silenced her. Walking over to the table where she had left her bag, he took out one of the gold coins and put it into his bag.  
  
"Hey!" she cried. "That's mine!"  
  
"Shh! This is for Mr. Miller,"  
  
"Wait, that's mine!" she protested.  
  
Not paying any attention to her, George pulled out another one and said, "This is for Ms. Barns."  
  
"But—" she said trying to grab her coin purse. He held it just out of reach and took out one more.  
  
"And this is for Mr. Rodder," he finished, happily. He began walking out. "I'm goin' to go give it to them. See you later."  
  
"Wait!"  
  
"What now?" he asked, exasperated.  
  
"Are you goin' to get it or not, you big buffoon?!" she demanded.  
  
"I was considerin' it, but that sword must be very closely guarded and it would be dangerous." He said.  
  
"Yeah," said Tavia, not understanding what he was getting at. He was among the best of the thieves and situations like this were common for him.  
  
"One slip could mean my head."  
  
"Yeah, what's your point?"  
  
"Well," he said, smiling at her mischievously. "Buffoons are likely to mess up. I think I'd better not go."  
  
"You little weasel!" she said, slapping him on the head.  
  
"Ow!"  
  
"I'll show you dangerous!" With that, Tavia went after him, smacking him on the head. She knew that he could easily have beaten her, instead of trying to dodge her, and that he was letting her win.  
  
When he was six, Tavia (at the time, only nine) had found him at the side of a river. He had lost his family. Tavia had liked him and had taken him under her wing. She taught him the skills of a thief. He had picked them up fast and soon became much better than she. She had also tried to teach him some hand-to-hand combat but was surprised to find that he already knew. In fact, he was able to teach her a few tricks. Thus, they grew up, fighting, bickering, and playing like brother and sister. Tavia smiled as she thought of it.  
  
Presently, George, having decided that he had been whacked enough, tackled Tavia to the ground and began to tickle her mercilessly.  
  
"Ah! Hahahaha. STOP!" she shouted between laughs.  
  
"Do you surrender?" asked George,  
  
"Haha no! hahaha never!"  
  
"Alright," said George. "Then I'll just have to," he tickled he harder.  
  
"Okay! Hahaha okay!" shouted Tavia. "I give up! Hehehe"  
  
"Really?" asked George, innocently. "You don't sound too sure to me."  
  
"I give up! Hahaha"  
  
"So am I still a buffoon?" asked George, still not stopping.  
  
"Hahaha NO! Now—haha—Stop!"  
  
"And I'll take that, thank you very much," he said, taking his knife back. George got up, dusting himself off and smiling smugly. "So, if there's really nothin' else, I'll be on my way."  
  
"Wait!" cried Tavia one more time, still trying to breathe normally.  
  
"Again?"  
  
"My...handkerchief's...gone. Oh no! I must have...left it at...Naxen!" she said between gasps.  
  
"You mean that one you always carry around with you?" Tavia nodded. "We just got a huge amount of money. Why don't you just go and buy yourself a new one?"  
  
"But—"  
  
"Here," he said. His hand flashed out so fast that his movements were almost undetectable to the human eye and snatched her bag once more. Pulling out another coin, he handed it to her and said, "Go buy yourself a nice silk one."  
  
"B-but—" she started. Then she got an idea. "Here," she said. Grudgingly, she reached into her purse and took out a handful of the coins and put them in George's hand.  
  
"What...?" asked George, surprised.  
  
"I'm payin' you to go and get my handkerchief back,"  
  
"Is it really that important to you?"  
  
"Yes," His hand closed on the coin. Tavia was about to protest again, but then remembered that he was accepting her job. (A/N: Tavia is very...I think the word is money-oriented but I'm not sure. In any case, she REALLY likes her money) "Okay," she said. "But you have to go tonight."  
  
"Alright, already. I'll go tonight."  
  
"Oh yeah," said Tavia, remembering. "So are you going to get the sword or not?"  
  
"Well," replied George, "if I can get it, why not?"  
  
"How are you going to do that?" she asked him, getting up.  
  
"Think about it," he said, poking her in the head (none too softly either) "When you have an idea, tell me." With that, he jumped onto Beauty and kicked her into a gallop, heading for the city. 


	2. Chapter 2

George sat right outside the castle walls of Naxen that night. The night watch had given the midnight call about three hours ago. Soon it would be morning. Hm, he thought, how to get past the guards. Picking up a small pebble, George got as close as he could to the front gate. His feet made no sound when they touched the floor. He pressed his body to the wall and inched close to the guard on the right.  
  
The guard gave a big yawn and his partner shook him. "Can't fall asleep tonight, Boris," he said, "His Grace is in a really bad mood and anyone he catches shirking their duty is to be severely punished." The guard named Boris grunted and stood up straighter.  
  
Hehe, thought George. As if keepin' guards like this would help that old duke. He tossed his pebble far to the left, making sure it bounced off the stone walls so the guards noticed.  
  
"What was that?" asked Boris.  
  
"I don't know," said his partner. "We'd better go have a look." They went to find the source of the sound. George slipped in, unnoticed, but at the last second, his shirtsleeve snagged on a nail, sticking out of the wall and gave a loud rip. George cursed silently as the guards turned around and saw him. George gave them his trademark grin and disappeared inside the castle. George smirked as he heard the shocked guards sounding the alarm. He knew that he'd be in and out long before anyone found him, not to mention caught him.  
  
George lazily scanned the gateway and the front steps, not finding the lost handkerchief. He didn't expect to. If what Tavia had told him about the young duke falling for her was true (George had laughed at that comment, earning him an elbow in his chest), then it would probably be with him.  
  
It wasn't had to find the room. One could say that George grew up inside castles like this one. At least, he spent many of his nights in them. The masters of the house always kept their quarters on the top floor. Since there were only two doors on the top floor, George assumed it would be the smaller one. The larger must have gone to the senior duke.  
  
George opened the door silently and slipped in, closing it behind him. He searched the drawers of the desk and all the tables but did not find it anywhere. Finally, he wandered over to the bed, where Gary, as Tavia had called him, slept soundly. He had a goofy smile on his face and was holding the handkerchief to his chest. George smiled in amusement. So he really has taken a liking to her.  
  
Reaching out, George tugged on the kerchief, but to his surprise, it was held tightly in the young masters hand. George tugged again. Seeing that Gary would not let go, George poked him in the chest. This made Gary turn over and loosen his grip. George took the chance and snatched it out of the sleeping man's form before he could settle down again. Mission completed, George was about to leave, when he thought, Hey, I got a plan to get the Storm Bringer. He walked back to the bedside.  
  
"You're goin' to help me get that sword." He said to Gary. Gary just mumbled in his sleep. George poked him again and ran the handkerchief over his face. Gary's eyes slowly opened. George held up the kerchief and waved it like a girl would.  
  
~***~  
  
Gary woke to find something on his face. It was suddenly removed. Looking around, he noticed it was still dark. What am I doing up? He thought. Then he saw the man. He was standing beside his bed...holding Tavia's handkerchief!  
  
"Hey! That's mine!" shouted Gary.  
  
The man laughed and said, "You want it, lad? Come and get it." With that, he disappeared out the door. Gary furiously grabbed his shirt and ran out after him, still trying to put it on. Just as he exited, he ran into Faron.  
  
"Master!" said Faron urgently. "There's someone in the castle. It could be an assassin. You'd best be careful!"  
  
"I know that!" said Gary impatiently and ran off in the direction that he saw the crook go. He ran down the stairs to find the stranger waiting for him. That's odd, he thought, Why is he waiting for me? Does he want me to follow him? No matter, he has to know that he can't just steal from me like that.  
  
Gary chased the thief all the way to the city. Every time he thought that the man had gotten away, he'd turn the corner to find him standing there, waiting for him.  
  
~***~  
  
The men of Naxen ran to the gates, but by the time they had gotten there, no trace of either thief or lordling could be seen.  
  
"Stop!" shouted Duke Gareth to his men. "Stay here. Double the guards tonight,"  
  
"But, Your Grace," said Goban. "What about Sir Gareth?" he asked.  
  
"If that man wanted to hurt my son, he probably would have done it long ago. I think he's trying to lead us away and come back for Blizzard. Now everyone return to your posts."  
  
"Yes, sir!"  
  
~***~  
  
George had reached the city around midmorning. Turning around, he looked for the young noble who had chased him here. Ah, there he is. He said, finding his target. Gary hadn't spotted him yet. I'm surprised he hasn't stopped to rest yet. He's pretty good, but he still can't keep up with me, thought George with a smirk.  
  
"Hey, lackwit! I'm over hear!" George shouted to Gary.  
  
"Stop that thief!" shouted Gary.  
  
George leapt onto a nearby fence and looked around, pretending to be worried. So he's trying to get help now is he? Too bad he doesn't know the laws of the city, thought George. Nobody had even spared him a glance. George looked over at him and shrugged, still smiling.  
  
Seeing that his plan had failed, Gary had another idea. Angrily fishing in his belt purse, he pulled out a silver noble. Holding it up, he said, "I will award this to whoever catches that thief for me." The sudden shift in the crowd was incredible.  
  
Oops, thought George as the crowd swarmed toward him, spoke too soon. Oh well, here I go. He took a running jump and landed right next to Gary. Reaching up, "Got it!" shouted George as he snatched the noble out of the young man's hand and hopped over to a chicken stall on the other side of the busy, cobbled street.  
  
As Gary furiously ran towards him, George opened up on of the many cages of chickens and threw it at Gary. Then, opening another one, he grabbed a random chicken by the wings and threw it at him. He tossed more and more until the air was filled with panicked chicken squawks and dozens of soft feathers.  
  
"Having fun?" asked George as he threw the empty cage at Gary and as Gary was cursing at him, he ran over to the next stand. This one was piled to the top full of melons. Big ones, small ones, round ones, square ones, and some very smelly ones.  
  
Picking up a small, round looking one, George threw it at Gary. Gary hadn't had time to recover and was still spitting out feathers as a melon hit him square in the chest, covering him with sticky orange goop. He dodged another aimed for his face and tried to catch the next one, only to have it explode in his hands. George appeared next to him, grinning widely. "How do they taste?" he asked teasingly.  
  
"You—" said Gary angrily as he tried to brush the melon chunks off of his clothes. George grabbed one end of a roll of cloth from another nearby stall and pulled it over to Gary, wrapping it around him, as Gary struggled inside. George waited until Gary finally managed to get his sticky, feather- covered self out of the mess and glared daggers at George.  
  
"What are you so angry about?" asked George innocently. "I was only trying to help clean you up. Buck up, lad. Don't you want your money anymore?" With that, George tossed the noble at Gary, who caught it. While the money distracted him, George got behind him and told the city-folk, "Now, he's got the money. If you want to charge someone for damages, find him," Having said that, George took off quickly as the residents rushed at Gary.  
  
At the street corner, George chuckled as he surveyed the scene. Fish wives, blacksmiths, farmers, and every other kind of person you could find were all in the giant pile, trying to get some money. It's not even as if you guys are starving, thought George.  
  
Just then, George noticed who he thought was a small boy run up to him. upon closer examination, he noticed that he was in his late teens. This must be Faron, he thought. I was getting bored anyway, time to get moving. Faron had joined the crowd, curiously trying to see what was going on. George walked over to him and tapped him on the shoulder.  
  
"Hey there, sprout," called George.  
  
"What do you want?" asked Faron, looking at him suspiciously.  
  
"Don't you want to know where your young master is?"  
  
"Yeah...?" said Faron.  
  
"Well, can't you see him? I mean he is surrounded by all those people..." George watched in amusement as Faron's eyes widened and he quickly pushed and shoved his way into the crowd.  
  
When Faron realized that he could never get to his master in time, he had an idea. Taking hold of his purse, he raised it into the air and shouted, "Here! I've got the money!" Everyone paused for a moment. Then, turning, they all charged at Faron. "AHH!!"  
  
~***~  
  
Gary got up, panting and brushing himself off. Then he caught sight of the thief again, sitting at the corner, laughing. Then, he turned and saw Gary staring at him. "Hurry up, lad! I'm waiting!" he shouted and was off. Gary let out a growl of irritation. What does he want? He thought. He was about to run off after the man when he heard Faron's cry. Sighing, he turned and saw the crowd. Some people were walking out with small coppers clinking in their hand and others were still heading in. Gary ran through and grabbed all the money out of the people's hands. Dashing to the center of the crowd, he leapt up and took the purse out of Faron's hands, and turned around and dashed off towards the direction he saw the thief go, ignoring the angry shouts of the city folk.  
  
Gary followed the stranger through many alleys and streets. He soon lost track of where he was, but he didn't really care. He could just hire a coach and tell it to take him home if he couldn't find his way back.  
  
Gary saw the man vault over a low hanging wall and followed. He chased the thief across the rooftops. He struggled to catch up, but the man seemed to float through the air. His steps were silent yet fast. Even with his eight years of knight training, Gary wasn't able to keep up with this strange man, but that didn't stop him from trying. Once, he almost tripped but a hand reached out to grab him just in time.  
  
"You alright?" the thief asked.  
  
"Yes, thank you," said Gary gratefully before he did a comic double take and looked back up to find the man already three roofs away.  
  
~***~  
  
"Aileen!" Maude called impatiently. "Aileen! Where are you!?"  
  
~***~  
  
George carefully led the young noble around all the loose spots on the roof, making sure neither of them made a sound. It wouldn't have been hard for him, but he knew that Gary would not have been able to keep quiet and would have alerted the entire fief by now. Once, he turned around to find the noble about to fall over the edge. Only his almost super human speed saved them both from being discovered.  
  
Currently, he was running across one of the ledges of a side wing on the side of the wall. He looked back to see that Gary was only a speck in the distance. Suddenly, he heard a call from very close by.  
  
"Aileen!"  
  
Quickly, he pressed his body against the wall. He soon realized that the sound came from an open window. Driven by an odd sense of curiosity that he recognized as the Sight, he peered cautiously into the room. Inside, he saw three figures. One, a middle-aged woman with frizzy brown hair looked out the open door impatiently. George guessed that this was the one who shouted. His suspicions were confirmed a moment later when the woman hollered again. Another was a young girl of about fifteen with dirty blonde hair. She stood next to the last one, whom George assumed was a lady. The lady had long copper hair and was sitting with her back to George so he couldn't see her face. The girl was helping her to put her hair up into a half bun at the back of her head. She must be the maid, thought George. She went to put another pin in the lady's hair.  
  
"No, no, no," said the lady, taking it carefully out of her hair so as not to disturb the other ornaments already in place. "That's too much!"  
  
"But, milady," said the maid. "You must wear this one. His majesty, Prince Jonathan gave it to you."  
  
"He did?" asked the lady. "Oh, alright then." She said resignedly. The maid replaced the pin and stepped back to admire her work.  
  
"Aileen!" the woman by the door called again.  
  
"Coming!" came a call. George turned his attention to the door as another maid rushed in carrying a lavender bundle. She looked the same as the other maid. Twins.  
  
"What took you so long?" asked the woman in exasperation.  
  
At that point, George had to look back for Gary was almost upon him. He swung back onto the roof and waited for the other man to catch up.  
  
~***~  
  
"I'm sorry," said Aileen. "But I was passing by the kitchens and a boy ran out and I tripped and—"  
  
"Forget it! Just bring it here!" Maude interrupted.  
  
"Yes, ma'am," said the girl meekly. She walked over and presented the bundle to the older woman who shook it out, revealing a purple overdress. She placed it on the lady's shoulders.  
  
"Milady! You're so beautiful!" exclaimed the Duraleen, the maid who was doing her hair.  
  
"Of course," said Aileen. "Our mistress is the most beautiful woman in Tortall. That's why the Prince has chosen to marry her."  
  
"Yes, and with the Storm Bringer as a gift—"  
  
"Duraleen!" exclaimed Maude. "Don't go saying that. You don't want others to hear! Do you want to cause another massacre?" The lady in the seat stiffened, but Maude didn't notice and continued. "Last time people found out about the sword, everyone was killing each other to get to it."  
  
"Maude," said Alanna firmly, turning around. "Please stop."  
  
"Right, I'm sorry, Alanna. I forgot that your parents and your brother were killed in that mess, too."  
  
"Maude!"  
  
"Oh yes. I'm sorry. Let's not talk about that anymore. Stand up and let me see how you look."  
  
Alanna obeyed. She was dressed in a white, strapless gown with amethysts sewn to the bodice. The purple overdress covered her shoulders. She wore tiny amethysts in her ears and almost no make-up except for a little bit of red on her lips. Her natural beauty outshone anything that make-up could do. She had a short, slender body and a thin, pointed face with a stubborn chin. The most shocking thing about her, however, was her eyes. They were bright purple. However, while it may have looked odd on someone else, it only made her more beautiful.  
  
"You're so lucky!" said Aileen.  
  
"I don't feel lucky," said Alanna a bit sadly.  
  
"Why?" asked Duraleen. "Just about every girl in Tortall wishes they were you right now."  
  
"Yes, but I've never wanted to marry the prince," she said. "Being the prince must be hard. Being his wife is even harder." The other three in the room had no reply to this. They didn't really even understand. Everyone had always thought that as long as you get married to royalty, the rest of your life would be a breeze. What she had just said was so different from what was normally believed, that they weren't even able to comprehend her meaning.  
  
"It must be just the pre-marriage jitters," said Maude, breaking the uneasy silence and 'understanding'.  
  
"Yes, of course," agreed Aileen and Duraleen with relief evident in their voices. They were glad that they had gotten an explanation that made sense to them.  
  
Alanna sighed. She vaguely wished that someone understood her.  
  
What has happened to me? She asked herself. I never would have just sat here and waited for my marriage to someone I don't know before. I would have done something. Before... She seemed to ask herself these questions a lot lately, but they were just half-hearted questions. She knew the real answer. She just would not admit it to herself.  
  
Flashback  
  
She was seven years old. Her parents were dead, her twin was dead. She had felt it all. She had felt her brother calling out to her, but she couldn't do anything to help them. She had been locked in a secret room with the sword for her own safety while her parents and twin tried to fend off the mob of bandits that had come to her house. She was unable to get out, unable to help, unable to do anything but listen and wait. She bit her lip to stop herself from crying out as she felt her brother being cut down, heard her mother's scream as mage fire surrounded her and blew her to pieces, heard her father's furious roar which turned to one of pain as her was filled with arrows.  
  
She had sat in a corner, biting her lip until it bled and rocking back and forth, not daring to make a sound lest she be discovered and the sword fall into the wrong hands.  
  
She wanted to scream, to cry out, to run out of the room and kill all of the murderous pigs that had taken her family. But she could not make a sound. Even hours after they had gone and left her with nothing but an eerie silence and a giant void in her heart, she could not. She knew that if she cried, she would never stop. She would go mad with anger.  
  
So she sat there, rocking, for what seemed like an eternity, fighting the madness that she felt burning inside, craving to come to the surface and sweep her away. She fought it with everything she had. She had not listened to her family die only to go mad. No, she would live on for her family. With a final act of will, she pushed it away, shoved it out of her awareness, buried it deep within a hidden chamber of her heart and locked the door. But with that madness, she had also locked away her rage, her spirit. She had lost her family that day and with it, a part of herself...  
  
End Flashback  
  
She was later found by Coram, her grandmother's chief man-at-arms. He took her back to her grandmother's fief and she had lived there from then on.  
  
"Alanna?" asked Maude, shaking her from her thoughts. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah," said Alanna, putting on a bright smile. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me."  
  
"Well, you don't look so good," said Maude.  
  
"I'm fine, really. Why don't you go get Grandmother? Didn't she say she wished to see me in my dress?" asked Alanna, changing the subject.  
  
"That's right!" said Maude. "You stay here and I'll be right back."  
  
"You go too," she said to Aileen and Duraleen.  
  
"Yes, mistress," they replied.  
  
~***~  
  
Gary panted as he struggled to catch up to the other man. When he got close, he saw the man just standing there waiting for him, but not really watching him. Arrogant pig, thought Gary angrily. He's just playing with me. Fine. If you want to play, I'll just have to find some more people to play with you. He took a tiny black item out of his belt pouch. It was a tiny amount of boom powder about one fourth the size of his nail. It wasn't meant to kill people, only help to blow boulders out of the way when soldiers are marching or to help tear down a building to put a new one up. It was a new invention of the mages at the Tortallan University. A simple spell was used to keep the powder in a tiny shape. All one had to do was mumble the words Flammo Deflagratio. He did so now as he aimed the tiny 'pebble' at the thief's feet.  
  
~***~  
  
George had been looking out into the distance, thinking about the noble lady. He had seen many noble ladies before and this one didn't seem particularly special, but something about her seemed to strike him. At first, he'd assumed that it was the red hair, but, although it was a stunning copper color, it didn't seem to be it. He just couldn't seem to put his finger on it. She had awakened an odd sense of curiosity and it would not stop pestering him. He longed to have seen her face. Suddenly, he realized the buzzing at the back of his mind that he had been too distracted to pay attention to. The next thing he knew, the ceiling give way beneath him.  
  
Looking down into the room he was falling into, he saw the lady sitting in a chair next to where he was about to land. As if in slow motion, he watched her fall out of her chair in surprise. Reaching out, he caught her, his arm encircling her waste and spun her around.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
That's all folks! Yes, I've finally updated. By the way, Alanna is gonna be a little ooc in this so if u don't like it, don't read it. If u likes it, REVIEW!!!!  
  
Verasilyn: still wish u were here. 19 hehe. Anyway, I've updated. ur turn now. Sorry it was so slow. But I had so much school work! Ahhh! I am so jealous of u. ur so good at drawing! That picture was amazing! (I've probably said this already, but still!) same stuff as usual going on. School sux, wish u were my sis 20 (wow. 2 in one message) anyway, I'm getting off track. UPDATE WARRIOR!!!!! NOW!!!  
  
Devil of battle: hehehe. Um.... Yea. just look up. Lol. ;-)  
  
StrawberrySwirl: Thank you sooooo much for reviewing. I love George too. That's y I wrote this fic. Lol. I've finally updated and I'm soooooooo sorry for taking so long. Forgive me? (  
  
OutlawEris: OMG! I LOVE TurnJerkin. It is so great. U have to update it! Ur such a good writer. Hehe. I'm glad u liked the action. I wasn't really sure if I'd done it well. I love thieves too. I don't really know y. I guess it's the dangerous side yet they always seem to have their own honor. The dialogue should have skipped a line. I'm sure I put it in there. The format probably got mess up when I uploaded it. O well. Sorry if that caused some problems.  
  
THANK YOU GUYS SOOOOOOO MUCH FOR REVIEWING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 


	3. Chapter 3

George saw a hairpin fall out of her hair and quickly grabbed that as well before it fell to the floor. He looked into her face and time seemed to freeze. She was beautiful, for lack of a better word. She had a heart- shaped face and ivory skin with a little bit of tan, giving her skin color. Her nose was straight and her lips full. Then she glanced up at him and he looked into her eyes, becoming trapped in their depths. The purple eyes mesmerized him. He saw in them surprise and confusion, but deeper, he seemed to see a flash of grief. When he looked again, though, it was gone.  
  
~***~  
  
Alanna was shocked, to say the least, when a stranger fell through the ceiling and landed not two feet away from her. He'd caught her as she fell and spun her around. She had looked up at him in surprise and caught sight of hazel eyes filled with mischief and laughter.  
  
Presently, he set her down gently on her feet but did not let go of her. They stayed in that position for a moment just looking at each other, both with surprise and wonder evident on their faces. The man's brown hair, tips bleached by the sun, was cut short like most commoners. His face is handsome, but his nose is a bit large, she thought without realizing she was thinking it. However, at that moment, the man seemed to notice her studying him and gave a lopsided grin. Alanna found herself wondering what she had been thinking when she thought that.  
  
Just then, Alanna realized that she was in the arms of a strange man who had fallen through the roof. She didn't even know who he was! Quickly, she pushed herself back from him, but when she did so, she accidentally cut her palm on the sharp end of the hairpin he was holding. Worry crossed his face as he quickly turned the hairpin around so that the sharp end was safely in his palm.  
  
"Who are you?" she demanded.  
  
"Let me see your hand,"  
  
"Give that back to me,"  
  
"Just let me see your hand,"  
  
Reaching out, Alanna snatched the ornament back.  
  
"Whoa!" he exclaimed in surprise. Alanna looked at him in confusion and he held out his hand to reveal a red line of blood running through his palm.  
  
"I didn't mean it. I'm sorry," she said guiltily.  
  
He just smiled at her and replied, "I didn't mean it either. Here, let me see your hand, come on," Warily, she held out her palm for him to inspect. "Great, look at this," he said in mock dismay. "Now my sister's goin' to tease me for bein' cut up by a lass."  
  
"Just tell her that you got me too,"  
  
"But then she'll beat me up for hurtin' a lady!" he said, shaking his head sadly. "I lose either way."  
  
Alanna giggled. He had a quick wit and a sharp tongue, yet it seemed to her that he carefully considered each word before saying it.  
  
"Here, let me put some herbs on it," he said. Reaching into his belt pouch, he took out some strange smelling herbs and sprinkled them on her hand. She bit her lip as it stung her cut. Then, he took one end of the silk shawl she was wearing and ripped a strip off of it. She looked at him in amazement and he said, "What? It's ripped anyway." She looked at it and saw that it was true. When she had fallen out of the chair, a piece of the delicate fabric must have caught on it and torn.  
  
Taking the fabric, he bandaged her hand. His calloused hands were gentle as he secured the makeshift bandage in place. When he made no move to wrap his own cut, she asked, "What about you?"  
  
Glancing at the thin line of red tracing his palm, he said, "It's just a small cut. No need to worry about me." They stood in uncomfortable silence for a while, not really knowing what to say to the other.  
  
"Maybe you should go before someone sees you; It might cause some problems," she suggested.  
  
"Right," said the man, his keen ears picking up the sound of footsteps in the distance. He turned and walked in the opposite direction of the door.  
  
"Where are you going?" Alanna asked.  
  
The man turned and looked at her. "I'll go out the way I came in," he said. As an after thought, he added grinning at her, "to avoid causing any problems. Don't go near water for a few days."  
  
Alanna still didn't quite understand. He had fallen through the ceiling and it was over ten feet above them. But before she could say anything, he had jumped up and grabbed the top of the window frame and swung himself up. Then, reaching out, he grabbed the rim of the hole through which he had fallen and disappeared over the edge.  
  
He had left not a second too soon. The instant his foot had gone from view, Aileen and Duraleen ran into the room, frantic.  
  
"Oh lord!"  
  
"Are you okay, milady?"  
  
"What did you see?" she asked, afraid for a moment that they had seen the man.  
  
"What do you mean, Lady Alanna?" asked Aileen in a tone that suggested Alanna had bumped her head. "Anyone can see it. The roof's fallen in!" Alanna suppressed a sigh of relief and said nothing as Aileen and Duraleen, who hadn't noticed her strange behavior, continued to fuss over her. Alanna held up the hairpin she was still holding and examined it. The tip was now stained with a small drop of blood that was quickly drying into a rusted brown.  
  
~***~  
  
A regal-looking woman in her mid-eighties carrying an ebony staff with a crystal orb on top led a small procession along the twisted halls of Trebond. Her white hair was tied in a severe knot behind her head. She had sharp, calculating brown eyes and stern, thin lips in a square, no-nonsense face. The Lady Heranna had single handedly held Trebond, keeping it from becoming a run-down old castle and making it the busy, respected fief it was today.  
  
With her, were two comical looking figures that seemed almost as different as night and day. Both were somewhere in their fifties and they both wore rich, but simple clothes, but that was where the similarities stopped. One was tall and rail thin with dark, but thinning hair and black eyes. He wore a white tunic over a gray shirt. The other man was short comparing to his companion, but actually only about two inches shorter than was normal. His thick, snow-white hair was tied loosely with a leather thong and his eyes were a pale blue. He wore a red tunic over a brown shirt. One more thing that these two had in common was that each carried a large assortment of pouches and vials. The taller one ha a harness that went over his shoulder and the shorter man had a belt and about twenty different sacks hanging off of it.  
  
These were Wil and Lar, world-renowned masters of the arts of poison and healing. Wil, the one in the white, was the best poison master in the known world and Lar, in white, was the master of medicine. They were equivalent to a black robe mage. They had sworn allegiance to the late King Roald who had died a year ago. His wife had died not long before from a disease and he had never truly gotten over it. Now, they were Crown Prince Jonathan's closest advisors.  
  
Following behind were a score of foot soldiers. Finally, after a mind- boggling amount of twists and turns, they arrived at a large, ornate door that seemed to be very old. Lady Heranna stopped and took out a large ornate key. Placing it in the lock, she murmured a word and turned the lock.  
  
"You stay here and guard the door. Do not let anyone enter," she ordered the foot soldiers sternly. Then, turning to the Masters, she said, "Follow me." She opened the door and stepped aside to let the two men in, then locked the door behind them.  
  
The room seemed simple enough. It was furnished like a normal guest room. There was a large bed at one end of the room and a chest at the foot of it. In the corner was a plain desk with some parchment and a quill on it. There was also and rug and a fireplace. Wil and Lar looked around confusedly.  
  
"Um...Lady Heranna?" said Lar tentavely.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Are we...uh...in the wrong...uh...room?" asked Wil, uncertainly.  
  
Heranna laughed and Wil and Lar looked at each other in confusion. "Watch," she said simply, and before they could respond, she crossed to the bedpost on the left side at the foot of the bed and gave it a clockwise twist. The chest disappeared into the floor and revealed a staircase leading downward. The two men stared in amazement. Heranna lit the crystal on her staff with her Gift and began to walk down the stairs. She had gone down about five steps before she realized she was alone. Turning, she saw the two old men were still staring in wonder.  
  
"Well?" she demanded. "Are you coming?"  
  
"Oh! Uh, yes—"  
  
"Of course—"  
  
Came the startled replies as they broke out of their trances and hurried to catch up. They huddled together like children scared yet amazed at their surroundings. The walls seemed to be covered with strange creases, and, upon closer observation, they could be seen as carvings of warriors and knights doing brave deeds. These must have been the heroic history of Trebond. Once, during their long decent down the narrow stairway, Lar had accidentally bumped into Wil while staring at the walls. They both jumped five feet into the air.  
  
"Watch where you're going!" whispered Wil angrily. Speaking out loud didn't seem right in this place.  
  
"You're the one who ran into me!" retorted Lar, also in a whisper.  
  
"How could I run into you? I'm a stair beneath you!"  
  
"You must have backed up!"  
  
"No, I didn't!"  
  
"Yes, you did!"  
  
"No,"  
  
"Yes,"  
  
"No—"  
  
"Shh!"  
  
They had arrived at the bottom of the stairs and there was an enormous ornate door with a carving of a tall figure holding a magnificent sword. In the background was an army of cloaked men, their faces shrouded in darkness. To the side of the carving was some writing, but the origins of it were alien. There was also a picture of some sort on the bottom. It was a rectangle surrounded by flames. Around it were four star-shaped figures. In between two of the figures was a small shape that seemed like two circles joined together. Once again, Heranna took out a key and unlocked the door.  
  
They entered into a vast chamber that seemed to be a natural underground cave. A strange glow was coming from the center of the cave. It seemed to be a large force field on top of a slab of stone. Small power bolts danced along the surface and it seemed to fill the entire cave with an eerie hum.  
  
"Is it in there?" Lar asked, turning to Lady Heranna.  
  
"Mm," she nodded, staring at her family heirloom in pride and, although she would never admit it, a little bit of awe.  
  
"Great," said Wil excitedly. The two walked over to the stone slab. Heranna, realizing what they were doing, shouted a warning.  
  
"No don't—" it was too late. Wil had already reached his hand out. The second he touched the glowing dome, a strong force threw him into a very surprised Lar and sent them both flying backwards to the hit the far wall of the cave and come crashing to the ground in a tangled heap of limbs and bottles. Heranna laughed while they, with much shouting and cursing, disentangled themselves.  
  
"Wow," panted Lar as he dusted himself off. "That's quite a spell."  
  
"Gryffith of Trebond, the founder of our great fiefdom, was the one who cast it." Explained Heranna. The two old men looked at the shield with awe evident in their gazes.  
  
"How do we get the sword out then, Lady?" asked Wil.  
  
"Watch," she replied. So saying, she stepped up to the energy field. She mumbled something that they couldn't quite understand and touched a spot on the altar. The dome instantly disappeared and the slight hum that they still felt in their bones was the only trace it left. The sword flew out of the altar where it had been sheathed, and Lar jumped up and caught it.  
  
"Wow," he breathed. "So this is the legendary Storm Bringer."  
  
The pommel held a large emerald, and gold and silver wires twined along the hilt. The scabbard was made of a material that looked like stone but it was as light as a regular leather scabbard and had creases all over. It was decorated with small emeralds along the edges.  
  
"May we have a look at it?" asked Wil hopefully.  
  
Heranna seemed to consider this for a second, looking each of them up and down with her calculating gaze. Finally, she nodded her consent. Excited, Wil walked over to Lar and watched as he tried to pull the sword out of the sheath. However, hard as he tried, it would not come out.  
  
"What are you? A weakling?" asked Wil, scornfully.  
  
"Weakling yourself," replied Lar. "This sword won't budge."  
  
"You're just not trying hard enough."  
  
"If you're so good, you try," said Lar handing the weapon over.  
  
"Fine," said Wil. "I will." He pulled and pulled, but to no avail.  
  
Lar sniffed an I told you so and Wil stuck out his tongue (such behavior would normally be viewed as strange in old men, but anyone who knew these two knew that they were like small children).  
  
After Wil's curiosity overcame his pride, he suggested that Lar pull on the sheath while he pulled on the hilt. Lar agreed and they tried that, but it didn't work either. By now, the two were most annoyed. Lar proposed that this time, Wil would turn around and pull on the scabbard and he would pull the hilt by bracing his foot on Wil's back. This resulted in Lar's hand slipping causing Wil to fall painfully on his face and Lar to fly back into the cave wall again. After that, they gave up.  
  
"Lady, this sword is protected so carefully, how could you bear to give it away?" asked Wil.  
  
Lady Heranna, who had been laughing at the antics and constant bickering of the two, sobered immediately. "This sword has been in our family for generations. But we have lost the right to keep it any longer. Long ago, Gryffith the Warrior used the sword to defeat the Evil Sect, but after him, no one has ever been able to wield it again. The great House of Trebond is no longer what it once was either. That is why we have decided to hand the responsibility of keeping this sword to his highness, the prince. It will now be his duty to protect this sword and made sure it is used only for good."  
  
The two old men, feeling the gravity of the moment, said, "We promise to do all that is within our power to help our prince protect this sword. You can count on us."  
  
"Thank you," said Heranna gratefully.  
  
***  
  
George found the secret entrance to the room easily. He had memorized the map of the servants halls in the castle before coming and knew there could only be a few places that it would be. After running by a few, he found it. It was obvious, for it was the most heavily guarded. All of this time, Gary had been following him, still believing that this mysterious stranger was just leading him on a wild chase for the handkerchief, never suspecting that he was being used to get into Trebond House.  
  
Looking in on the room full of guards while once again waiting for the young noble, he sensed something strange in the room. Looking closer with his Sight, he noticed two little spots of magic the size of a full-grown man in the corner where there weren't any guards. So, he thought. Others are here too. These nobles think they are so good at being secretive, but they have one weddin' and the whole world knows their secrets. Hm, to get that sword, I've got to get rid of this bugger on my tail. Just as he thought this, the 'little bugger' ran into view. Speak of the devil, thought George as he turned and dashed in the opposite direction out of the servants' passages and into the main halls.  
  
Seeing a cluster of guards that had just gotten off duty, he ran towards them, purposefully making his footsteps louder. Turning, they saw him. One of them shouted, "Stop, thief!" assuming that that was the reason he was running. When he didn't, they surrounded him and tried to fight him.  
  
"Wait!" he said hurriedly and putting on an innocent face. "I'm not the thief, he is." He pointed to Gary who had just run up and was looking at them all confusedly and ran.  
  
***  
  
Gary finally caught up to the thief once again. He always seemed to be just one step ahead. It was getting very frustrating. Seeing him so close, Gary ran at him. the thief turned to run.  
  
"Running again, you coward?" shouted Gary.  
  
The man turned around unexpectantly. An innocent look was plastered on his face as he said, "I don't want to run, but look behind you."  
  
Gary turned to find a group of angry looking foot soldiers, they charged at the young noble who now seemed to have a permanent look of confusion plastered onto his face. Who could blame him? A mysterious stranger who seemed to be only interested in stealing his handkerchief woke him up early in the morning. After being pummeled by chicken and fruits in the marketplace, he chased this stranger all around Trebond House. Now, a group of guards was attacking him as if he were the thief.  
  
His knight training kicked in before he had time to think. He ducked under a wild punch and kicked the offender in the stomach. The next man charged at him. Gary sidestepped him and threw the man over his shoulder into the wall. He didn't remember the rest of the fight, only that when he finally decided to shout that he was not the intruder, he realized that he had no more opponents. They were all rolling on the floor in pain or knocked out. Wow, he thought. What useless guards.  
  
However, looking around, he realized he had lost the man.  
  
***  
  
Meanwhile, the two men hiding under the spell watched the scene before them anxiously. They were brothers. The older one was a half of a head taller and had a wide face. The younger had a more angular face and sharper features. Both had black hair and brown eyes. Suddenly, the younger brother sensed another presence. Both brothers had moderately strong magic. His was the Sight and the older brother had the Gift. The feeling was gone as fast as it appeared. He stepped forward, but a hand on his shoulder held him back. He looked back at his older brother who shook his head.  
  
"There is someone else here to steal the sword as well, Verreaux. We must get it first." He whispered in a voice so low that only his brother could hear him.  
  
"First, let's make sure that this sword is truly what we came here for, Isidor. Now stop moving or you'll break the spell." Verreaux was sweating from the effort of keeping the concealment up.  
  
Isidor agreed reluctantly and settled back down to wait. Soon, they saw the Lady Heranna, Wil, and Lar emerged from the room. Wil was carrying a long object wrapped in cloth.  
  
"Are we supposed to just leave like this?" Lar was asking.  
  
"Of course," said Wil. "See, the more we act like it's nothing, the more people will overlook it."  
  
"Good point," agreed Lar.  
  
"That's it," Isidor whispered. "Let's go,"  
  
Verreaux nodded.  
  
The two leapt out of their corner of concealment. Verreaux charged at the line of soldiers and kept them distracted while Isidor went for the sword. The entire movement was so fast that only a lucky step to the side on Wil's part kept the sword in his hand. Damn, thought Isidor. Missing his first lunge, he knew that they would be on the alert now and it would not be so easy on the second try. Now they would have to fight.  
  
He hurried back to his brother's side and they stood back to back, surrounded by guards. The position was a familiar one for the brothers, who had had to use it too often in their hard lives; first, when people accused them of being devil's spawn and tried to stone them to death, and now, when they were risking their lives to carry out their masters orders to avoid his wrath were they to fail. These brothers had learned the evil side of humanity too early in their lives. They had now become cold-blooded killers.  
  
With a battle cry, they charged out and began fighting the guards along with Wil, Lar and Heranna, who had learned to fight from her stay in the Yamani Isles. Isidor kicked a guard in the stomach and knocked him back into another guard. He turned to see Wil. They exchanged a few passes until Verreaux decided to take him on. Isidor hadn't yet had time to draw his sword but he did so now. He charged back in to take care of some soldiers who had been trying to get his brother while his back was turned. The battle was even for a while, neither side losing or winning, but then, Isidor feigned a grab for the sword again and while Wil and Lar tried to protect it, he went after Heranna instead, holding his sword to her neck. The fighting ceased immediately and his brother was at his side in an instant.  
  
"Don't move or I'll kill her," said Isidor. "Now, hand over the sword."  
  
"Don't do it!" shouted Lady Heranna, but Isidor shut her up by pressing harder with the sword tip until it drew blood.  
  
Wil seemed to be in indecision for a moment, then, huffily, he relinquished the sword. Verreauz opened the cloth bag to check the sword was inside.  
  
"Wil!" shouted Heranna and Lar at the same time.  
  
"Great, now stay here. If you follow, the old lady dies." Said Isidor.  
  
Isidor and Verreaux left with Heranna in tow.  
  
"Why did you give it to them?" asked Lar in frustration.  
  
"Follow and you'll see," replied Wil.  
  
"Ooohh," said Lar, realizing that Wil must have had a plan all along.  
  
***  
  
when they were out of sight, Isidor lifted his sword to swing it at Heranna's neck. Verreaux stopped him.  
  
"What are you doing?" he asked.  
  
"I'm going to kill her," said Isidor.  
  
"What about the prince? She is his mother0in-law to be."  
  
"Alright," said Isidor reluctantly. To Heranna, he said, "You're lucky to have a powerful son-in-law." He knocked her out before she could reply.  
  
"What did you do that for?" asked Verreaux.  
  
"Well, we weren't going to drag her through this entire castle were we?"  
  
"Good point,"  
  
The brothers hurried through the hallways incase there were more forces waiting for them. Suddenly, Isidor felt a funny feeling in his chest. It was becoming increasingly harder to breathe. He fell to the ground trying to breathe. Verreaux noticed and hurried over.  
  
"Isidor! What's wrong!" All of a sudden, he seemed to be overcome by the same symptoms and sunk to the ground clutching his throat.  
  
"What's going on?" Isidor asked.  
  
At that point, Lar and Wil, who had been secretly following them, came out of their hiding place behind the wall.  
  
"Hehehe. How do you like my poison?" asked Wil triumphantly, as though he were winning a game of chess.  
  
"So, it was...you, old man," gasped Isidor angrily.  
  
"Yes, and I must commend you two on being able to last so long with my poison in you."  
  
At this point, the brothers could hold out no longer and blacked out.  
  
"Just when you said that, they passed out," commented Lar, laughing.  
  
Wil bent down and retrieved the sword. "Can you guess where I hid my poson this time?" he asked Lar. It was an old game they played.  
  
"Isn't that obvious?" said Lar. "It was the sword."  
  
"Nope," said Wil, eyes twinkling mischievously.  
  
"What? It couldn't have been on Lady Heranna, could it?"  
  
"Nope,"  
  
"Then where was it?"  
  
"It was...I'm not telling you,"  
  
"Oh, come on!"  
  
"No, you can't make me,"  
  
"Yes, I can,"  
  
"No, you can't,"  
  
"Yes—"  
  
Suddenly, a young boy walked over. "Ahh!" he screamed, seeing the two bodies on the ground. "Old men are killing people! Help! Help!"  
  
"Shh! It's all right. We're not murderers," said Wil and Lar trying their best to soothe the frightened youngster.  
  
"Don't kill me. Please, don't kill me!" chanted the boy completely ignoring them. Turning, he tried to run, but appeared to trip in his hurry.  
  
Wil and Lar hurried over to help as the boy wailed that he was going to die.  
  
"Sh, sh, sh. It's okay." Said Lar trying to calm him.  
  
"Yea, we're not murderers. Let us help you. Where did you get hurt?" said Wil.  
  
The boy's wails died down. Sniffling, he pointed to his knees. Wil and Lar immediately began rubbing them and mumbling calming words. Suddenly, they each felt a thump on their heads and the world went dark.  
  
"Hmph," sneered the boy. "Pathetic old men. Now where is that antidote?" he said to himself while searching through Lar's bottles. "This should be it." He pulled out an oblong bottle with a rubber stopper and also pick up the Storm Bringer while he was at it. "If this isn't right, I guess I'll just have to kill you two to avenge my two partners over there."  
  
Walking over to the two fallen young men, the boy put a spherical pill from the bottle into each of their mouths. Then, he used a bit of his Gift to allow them to regain consciousness faster.  
  
"Now," he said, slinging his arms around their shoulders as if in a familiar fashion. "You both owe me for saving your lives. Remember that,"  
  
Isidor glared at the obnoxiously smug face, "I'm going to get you one day, Cam." Verreaux just looked exasperated.  
  
***  
  
George, watching from the window, shook his head. Poor old men, he thought. They didn't even realize that what they had believed to be a young boy was actually just a very slight woman. I didn't even need the Sight to figure that one out. Grabbing a small pebble, he threw it at her back. The rock flew straight and true, striking her pressure point and rendered her momentarily paralyzed. She froze.  
  
Jumping in, he grinned cheekily at her as he walked over and took the sword from her unmoving hands. "I'll be takin' that, thank you." He said to her. She glared at him. Then, she grinned slyly coming up with another ploy.  
  
"Aren't you afraid of the old man's poison?" she asked.  
  
"Them?" he asked. "Both of them put together wouldn't be as venomous as you."  
  
She huffed angrily. The two brothers struggled to get up, but were still too weak from the poison.  
  
"Well, it was nice chattin' with you, but I'd best be off now," said George as he swung himself out of the window and disappeared.  
  
Meanwhile, the two brothers had struggled up and were limping away when the boy/girl called, "Hey! Are you just going to leave me here?"  
  
Isidor look an angry step toward her but Verreaux held him back.  
  
"If we were to leave you," he said. "those two would definitely kill you when they wake up."  
  
"You wouldn't dare—"  
  
"But," said Isidor, catching on to his brother's ploy. "If we let you go right now, then our debt to you will be repaid."  
  
She pursed her lips angrily for a moment, hating to have to give in to them. Finally, her life won out over her pride and she muttered a grudging, "Fine,"  
  
Verreaux gave a firm tap to her left side, in between her third and fourth ribs. Then, the two hurried away, not liking to be in the castle for longer than they had to in their weakened state.  
  
"I'm going to tell the Master on you!" she shouted childishly at their receding forms. "You're going to be in big trouble when you get back!"  
  
At that point, Wil and Lar had begun to wake up, clutching their heads and groaning in pain. Then, they spotted Cam and shouted, "Hey! Freeze! Don't move!"  
  
"Yeah, right." Sneered Cam as she took off down the hall. Wil and Lar were too dizzy to follow.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ok. So George has the sword and Cam, Verreaux, and Isidor are about to face the wrath of their "master." More a/g coming up next time (I sound like a tv show!)! Please R&R.  
  
Thank you to all my reviewers! I'm sooooo sorry I didn't update sooner. But I've just been in this serious rut. Mainly cuz the rest of the chapter is boring and there wasn't much a/g going on so I didn't feel like writing it. Oh well.  
  
Vera- hehe. I finally got it up. Aren't you proud of me? gets a pat on the head that really took too long. Even I know it. Well, sorry I couldn't get it up by ur computer class, but I sent it to you. I still don't completely get ur next chapter on warrior. I think you should fix it. Make it more descriptive if you have to. It's very strange.  
  
P.S. I'm not changing the title. Nice try.(  
  
AJ 4eva- blush thanx!  
  
sw33t t3mptations-hehe. Well, it wasn't that bad of a cliffie. You should read vera's (verasilyn) stories. Now those are evil cliffies!  
  
Paige Moonsword()-yup. Me love George too!! *o* drool  
  
Fire Mage6- Thank you!  
  
Soccerrsweet- sorry for being so long! I just really didn't want to write it cuz the rest of the chapter was kinda boring. Been struggling with myself for ages. I finally got it out though! yay for me!! 


	4. Chapter 4

Alanna hurried after Maude, pelting her with questions.  
  
"She was taken hostage?" she asked anxiously. "Is she alright? Was she hurt?"  
  
"Well," said Maude. "She was knocked out when the thieves escaped. She's up now and insists she's okay, but you know how she is. Always trying to be tough. She could have her leg chopped off and still say she was fine."  
  
"Poor Grandmother," said Alanna. "Her pride must be wounded, having someone break in like that and steal the sword from right under her nose." At this thought, she fell silent thinking of all the bloodshed that may now happen because the sword was out in the open. She tried to forbid herself from thinking about how her parents and brother had died because of that. And this time I almost lost my Grandmother as well. Alanna gave an inward sigh. This was all because of that accursed sword, yet she knew deep down that she could not blame the sword for existing. It had been her family's choice to protect the sword and even give their lives for it. She would not dishonor their sacrifices by belittling the sword that they had deemed worthy of their lives.  
  
Maude noticed the sudden silence and said nothing. She knew better than to disrupt her when she had that look on her face. The emotionless mask that appeared whenever she was thinking of (or trying not to think of) her deceased family. Poor girl, she thought. What happened to that fiery young girl that used to come over during midwinter Festival? But Maude already knew that answer. That fiery young girl had lost her family. She had spent three days locked up in a room with only a sword and the reek of the dead to accompany her, too afraid to make a sound, before someone had finally found her. When she had first arrived at Trebond, she had not spoken a word. She would sit in her room all day and stare out the window at nothing at all. At night, muffled sobs could be heard as the young girl cried herself to sleep.  
  
Maude had felt sorry for the girl and began teaching her a bit of the healing arts. Not too much, just a bit of herb lore. The girl learned fast, but although she seemed interested, there was no spark, no passion behind it. Bit by bit, Alanna began to act like a normal girl again. However, she was never quite the same. For one thing, she never cried. She had been able to learn how to act like there was nothing wrong with her, like she was just a normal girl. In fact, most people would never have guessed in their wildest dreams at the horrors she had experienced, but those who knew her knew that there was something wrong. She couldn't keep up the pretense for long. One day, that thin strand of self-control would snap and they feared what the result would be.  
  
Suddenly, a shout interrupted the musings of the two women. A boy ran into their midst shouting and screaming about people trying to kill him.  
  
"What happened? Calm down, child! Tell me what happened," said Maude trying to comfort the child. Instead, it seemed to frighten the boy even more and he moved to hide behind Alanna, peeking out fearfully.  
  
"Excuse me, child!" exclaimed Maude indignantly. "Unhand the lady! Do not touch her in that manner!"  
  
"It's alright, Maude. The poor child is just frightened," said Alanna, placing a calming hand on Maude's shoulder. Turning to the boy, she noticed that his looks were oddly feminine. Not wanting to be rude, however, she said nothing about it. Instead, she asked, "What's wrong?"  
  
"P-p-people a-are chasing me. They w-want t-t-to k-kill me."  
  
"Who's chasing you? How did you get in here?"  
  
"I don't know but all these p-people were running around and fighting each other. I s-saw that the d-door was open and I came in."  
  
"What?" asked Maude, cutting in. "The door was open? I should go check on that." She turned to go, but then seemed to remember Alanna.  
  
Alanna, sensing her indecision, said, "Go, Maude. I can take care of myself."  
  
"Are you sure, milady?" asked Maude wavering and casting a distrusting glance at the young boy."  
  
"I'll be fine. Go,"  
  
"Alright then," said Maude, still a bit uneasy. She hurried off in the direction the child had come.  
  
"I'm scared," said the boy as soon as Maude had left. "Can you walk me home?"  
  
"Well," said Alanna, "I can't leave the fief right now, but I can find someone to take you home."  
  
The boy nodded and they set off in search of a guard.  
  
"Strange," said Alanna, beginning to get worried. "Where is everyone?"  
  
"There's someone!" exclaimed the boy suddenly. Alanna turned to the direction the child had pointed to, but found nothing there. Puzzled, she turned back to the boy.  
  
"There's no one th—" she did not finish her sentence as a bottle of Dreamrose was slipped under her nose and she fell immediately unconscious.  
  
~***~  
  
George ran through the forest on his way to Tavia's house. Gary had caught up by now and was puffing with the exertion. He had stopped cursing George, wisely choosing to preserve his breath for the chase instead. George, however, still looked as fresh as if he'd just begun running. His harsh childhood had forced him to push his endurance limit just to survive. Have to hand it to him, though, thought George. He is persistent.  
  
"Hey!" George shouted. "How's it goin' back there, sprout? You tired yet?"  
  
"No!" shouted Gary defiantly between gasps of air.  
  
"Okay, I'm goin' faster then. Bye!" George picked up speed and was soon gone from sight. Gary's jaw dropped as he watched the figure disappear. They had been running for over a half a day! How could he still go faster?  
  
George arrived at Tavia's house soon after. He set the Storm Bringer down on the table and sank down into a chair, satisfied at a job well done. Then he sighed. During all the action and chasing involved in stealing the sword, he was able to keep that lady out of his mind, but now that there was nothing to do, her image surfaced to the top of his mind and he couldn't seem to think of anything else. Her brilliant copper curls, her stubborn, yet beautifully lady-like chin, and most of all, her deep amethyst eyes that seemed to hide a devastating story. Suddenly, he heard the sound of hoof beats, jolting him out of his daydreams. Hurrying to the door, he saw a horse gallop by. Its rider was the same young woman he'd seen at Trebond, masquerading as a boy. He then noticed the other body draped over the saddle and the flash of unmistakable copper hair. It's her! thought George. He hurried after the horse. He could not tell from the brief glimpse he had caught whether the girl was dead or merely unconscious. He hoped it was the latter.  
  
~***~  
  
Alanna awoke to find herself staring at the forest ground as it rushed by, passing just inches from her face. It took her a few moments to realize she was hanging over a saddle on a galloping horse. She struggled to get up, but a voice that she recognized faintly as the child's spoke up.  
  
"Careful! If you fall off the horse and split your head open, it's not my problem." Alanna reluctantly stopped struggling, grudgingly admitting to herself that the boy had a point. She tried to think of another way to escape, but could not seem to come up with anything. At the point where she had just about given up hope, she saw a movement in the corner of her eye. Turning carefully so as not to over balance herself, she saw that mysterious man with the hazel eyes from earlier sitting in the trees. He smiled at her reassuringly and winked. Alanna grinned at the stranger, feeling unreasonably safe, as if everything would turn out alright.  
  
Deciding that she would not just sit about idly and wait to be rescued, Alanna turned to her captor, or rather, her captor's knee, and bit it as hard as she could. Surprised by this unexpected attack, the boy pulled back on the reins, causing the horse to rear and throw both riders.  
  
Alanna felt herself fly through the air and closed her eyes in anticipation for the inevitable pain that would result from her fall. It didn't come. Instead, Alanna felt herself swept up in strong arms. She opened her eyes and found herself staring into the twinkling eyes of the man. He set her down gently by the horse, now calmed and standing patiently. He smiled at her as she looked back at him in wonder. she was just thinking that she ought to say something when a certain angry kidnapper interrupted.  
  
"Why you—you—Who do you think you are, interfering in my business?" he asked angrily.  
  
~***~  
  
George did not even turn around he was fascinated by this lady in front of him. He studied her, taking in her every feature. He did not worry about the disguised boy behind him. The girl had no Gift, therefore, he could monitor her every thought and intention with his Sight. A sharp warning buzz in the back of his mind (the Sight) told him when the girl tried to make her move. Quick as lightning, George lifted the lady onto the horse, out of harm's way. Then, he turned to see what his Sight had warned him of. Danger came in the form of three black, metal disks. Each was paper-thin and had three hooked points made to dig into flesh. George skillfully kicked them all back where they came from, making sure to catch them on the flat side, turning them harmlessly away. In the same fluid movement, he leapt onto the horse and urged it into a gallop.  
  
A short while later, George deemed them safe and slowed the horse. He jumped off and grabbed hold of the reins so he could lead on foot.  
  
"Won't he follow us?" asked the copper haired lady.  
  
George smiled at her innocence. She believed that child to be a boy. I wonder if I should tell her the truth, thought George. Deciding against it, he answered simply, "He can't keep up."  
  
"Oh," she said, then shuddered. "Scary child." George laughed at this but only nodded in agreement when she looked at him curiously.  
  
"Aye, lass," he said. "That child is in need of serious help."  
  
"Well, said the girl after a moment of silence. "I'd best be getting back. Our family heirloom, the Storm Bringer has already been stolen. Grandmother will be worried sick about me."  
  
At this, George looked with shock and more than a bit of sadness evident on his face. "You're Alanna of Trebond," he said flatly. It was not a question, but a statement. He knew the girl had the Gift so he could not look into her mind. He wouldn't have anyway. He respected her privacy, but still, he was unused to such surprises. he was usually a pretty good judge of character and did not need the Sight to help him figure people out. He had thought her a rich merchant's daughter or a Noble of lower rank. She did not act as if she were the queen of the world as would be expected of a lady of such high ranking. "I should have known. I should have known long ago," he muttered to himself. He had foolishly gone and tried to woo the Prince's betrothed.  
  
"What's wrong?" Alanna asked, noticing his strange behavior.  
  
George slapped a smile on his face as he looked up. "Nothing, nothing at all," he lied. "Come," he said suddenly as he began leading the horse deeper into the woods.  
  
"Where are you taking me?" asked Alanna.  
  
George gave a more genuine smile this time, although the disappointment was still there. "You'll have the Storm Bringer to take home with you. You'll just have to wait for a bit," he answered her.  
  
"You have it?" she asked, shocked.  
  
George just smiled. Even if we can never be together, I can still help her. I like her, even if she doesn't like me. He thought resolutely to himself.  
  
~***~  
  
He led her through the forest to a large cliff face riddled with caves. They entered through one of the larger ones and walked for a bit. After a while, a light appeared ahead.  
  
"So these caves are all connected," said Alanna in wonder after realizing that the light was the cave exit. "How did you—" She gasped as they emerged into a beautiful hidden valley. She looked around with wide eyes, taking in the breathtaking scene.  
  
It was not so much a valley as a hidden crevice between the mountains. It couldn't be found unless one knew where it was. On either side, the cliff walls rose up so high that they disappeared into the clouds. A waterfall fell in a cascading curtain into a crystalline pool at the foot of the cliff so covered with moss that it seemed like a fluffy, green pillow. Through it was a river that ran the entire length of the canyon, bubbling merrily. Wildflowers sprouted everywhere, and beautiful water lilies grew in the river. Butterflies and bees flew happily over the flowers, taking in the sweet nectar they provided. Dragonflies chased each other over the river. Birds sang merrily of the bright sunshine and abundant spring. Across from the pool on the other side of the canyon was a small cottage built against the cliff. A system of bridges was built over the widest parts of the river. All in all, the place created the impression of walking through a dream. It was beautiful and full of color along with a sense of pure, wild, untamed nature.  
  
"It's beautiful," she breathed. "How did you find it?"  
  
The man's eyes twinkled mysteriously as he answered, "Stumbled upon it while running for my life."  
  
Alanna had no answer to this since she could not tell if he was joking or not. She was led up to the front of the quaint little cottage. She jumped off nimbly as she stared about in wonder, looking for once like the teenage girl she was, instead of an eighty-year-old woman.  
  
"Did you build this?" se asked, indicating the cottage.  
  
George nodded. "What do you think?" he asked.  
  
"It's magnificent!" she exclaimed sincerely.  
  
George laughed. "Well, 'magnificent' isn't the word I'd use for it, lass. It's certainly nothin' compared to your Trebond castle."  
  
"Well, yes," she said, "but there's something special, something magical about being here. You'd never get the feeling back home. It's almost like. . .being in a dream." She smiled blissfully.  
  
George looked at her with amusement. "If you say so."  
  
They stood in silence for a bit longer as Alanna took in every rock and tree in the small valley and George watched her.  
  
"Well," said George, interrupting the comfortable silence they'd been sharing, "I'd best get goin' then."  
  
"To where?" Alanna asked, slightly disappointed.  
  
"To get your sword," he answered. Then, noticing her disappointment, he said, "Don't worry, lass. I'll be back before you know it. You'll be safe here."  
  
"Alright then," Alanna said.  
  
~***~  
  
George reached Tavia's house and found everything exactly as he had left it. He grabbed the sword from the table and prepared to leave again when Tavia came in.  
  
"Hey!" she greeted him cheerfully. "Did you get my hand kerchief back?" Before he could answer, she noticed the cloth wrapped sword in his hand. "Ooo! What's this?"  
  
She began loosing the ties that held the one end of the cloth bag closed before he could stop her. She squealed excitedly as she saw the decorative hilt of the ancient sword. "The Storm Bringer! You really pulled it off!"  
  
"'Course I pulled it off," said George smugly. "When have you ever known me to fail?"  
  
"My, aren't we the modest one!" she said laughing. "I admit, I knew you could do it, but think of it. You've just snuck into Fief Trebond, found the hidin' place of the sword, and stolen it from right under their noble noses! Quite an accomplishment. Those guards in the castle must really stink."  
  
"Nah," said George, grinning arrogantly, "I'm just too damn good for them."  
  
"Riiiiiiight."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"What do you think it's supposed to mean?"  
  
"I do believe I detected a note of disbelief in there. Is that so?"  
  
"I don't know. You tell me."  
  
"I think someone's askin' for another tickle session."  
  
"Let's see what this sword looks like!"  
  
"Hey! Don't you go changin' the subject!" he began protesting as she tried to pull the sword from the sheath. The sword did not budge.  
  
"What's goin' on? Here, you try," said Tavia, passing the sword to him.  
  
"Okay, but we're just looking at it, right? I promised to return it," said George, taking the sword.  
  
"Since when do you return things?" she asked. He just looked at her. "Alright, alright, just pull it out already!" she said finally, her impatience getting the better of her.  
  
"Alright, here it goes," Bracing himself, he gave the sword a strong tug. It slid out smoothly, causing him to have to check his strength before it flew out of his hand.  
  
"Mithros!" Tavia exclaimed.  
  
The blade was covered in rust from the pointy tip to the hilt. It looked nothing like the famed sword of legends.  
  
"Are you sure that's the Storm Bringer?" asked Tavia uncertainly.  
  
"Yea, it says so. . .I think so anyway. See?" He pointed to an inscription on the blade. "It's kinda covered by rust, but you can still kinda figure it out."  
  
"You've gotta be kiddin' me! Is a magic blade even supposed to get rusty?" she exclaimed. "Here, I'll take it outside to try it."  
  
"Wait!" he protested, but she had already hurried out. He followed her.  
  
"We'll just try it. That should prove if it's the legendary Storm Bringer or not. Maybe it's just a spell to make it seem rusty." She said as she found a good-sized tree. She swung the blade at it and, to both their surprise, it snapped in half!  
  
"Oh! I get it now!" exclaimed George. "This must be a fake that they had out incase thieves tried to steal it."  
  
"What?!" she cried, outraged. "You spent all that time and stole a fake sword??"  
  
"Hey! It was an honest mistake! And at least three other people were going for the same thing!" he said defensively.  
  
"Urg! Did you at least bring my handkerchief back?"  
  
George dug in his tunic and pulled out the blue kerchief. "There, happy?"  
  
Tavia didn't reply, only stormed back into the house. George knew she wasn't truly mad at him, just disappointed. She just liked to blame people when that happened, and since they were usually the only ones out here in the middle of the woods together, her target was most often him. He had become used to it after so many years together. Sometimes, he even found it amusing. Right now, he was just as perplexed and disappointed as she. It just didn't make sense. He had felt the tension of all those guarding the sword, especially that of Lady Heranna. Their thoughts all suggested that this was the real thing. Why then, was it just a useless old blade? No matter now, he thought. Now it's a useless broken blade.  
  
He was still holding the ornamental sheath and bent down to put the pieces back inside. Suddenly, the scabbard began to vibrate. A metallic clatter caused him to look up.  
  
Well, my lovely fans! What did u think? Yes, I know. It took me FOREVER to update. But I did it, right? -_-U well, I hope to get the next chapter up MUCH sooner and thank everyone for being so patient with me!  
  
Vera—well, I finally did it! Aren't u proud of me? Hehe. Sorry for taking so long. U kno all the problems I've been having with it. Hoping to update sooner tho. . . at least, I'll try. So what's up? I still can't quite believe that we've finally met!! YIPEEE!!!! O well, um. . . *cough* so what's new?  
  
Peachy Garlic—hehe, sorry. I finally did it tho. Thx for the ideas on the valley and stuff. And I honestly do like ur stuff. Stop saying it's so bad. I actually read ur bio too. Lol. Soooooo long!!!!!!!!  
  
Balloonfuzz—well, yea, I guess I made the background a little weirder than it needed to be -_-;; sry bout that. as for the switching back and forth, thank you. Some people found that confusing. Glad u liked it. The brothers annoyed me too. Heh. That's part of the reason it took so long for me to update. I didn't really like them so I didn't want to write it. If that makes any sense at all. thx for reviewing!  
  
Chibi noin—sorry for taking so long! Really, I am! Yea, it is hard. I'm also trying tnot to stick to the movie exactly and adding some stuff of my own. So bear with me, plz. Thank u soooo much for reviewing!  
  
SoccerrSweet—hehe, the old guys, well, I dunno. They were these two old guys in the movie. I thought they were really funny, but I'm finding it difficult to portray that here. They're supposed to be really silly and weird. *sigh* yes, I'm sorry for the late (very late) update. Forgive me? (  
  
Tpfreak—thank u!  
  
Once again, THANK U TO ALL MY REVIEWERS!!! I LOVE U!!!!!!!!!!!!! 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: SORRY!!! I kno I took 4 EVER to update, but....i blame school!!! school should die!!  
  
Disclaimer: just outta curiosity, why do we need to do these? More impotantly, where does it say we need to do these? I never read about it in the rules, and fanfiction kinda implies that it's not original...........coughownnothingcough there I said it.  
  
The two sword pieces were pulsating as well. As he watched, the two pieces bounced toward each other. When they were about a foot apart, they rose shakily into the air. A bluish, translucent bond could be seen forming. When they were at the height of where George was holding the scabbard, they snapped together and flashed into the sheath.  
  
"So it truly is a magic blade," he said in wonder.  
  
"What are you still doin' with that sword?" asked Tavia in annoyance as she came out of the house a moment later and saw him kneeling on the ground with it. He was staring at it with a funny expression in his eyes.  
  
"Whatcha doin'?" she asked, going up to him.  
  
"What?" he asked, seeming startled. "Oh. I'm just wonderin' where they stashed the real sword." He lied quickly.  
  
"Well, what do you need that one for? I'm goin' to throw it out," she said as she grabbed the sword.  
  
"No, you can't," said George, not releasing it.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I promised to return it."  
  
"What are you goin' to return a useless sword for? Let me have it. I'm goin' to throw it out."  
  
"No! You can't!"  
  
"Yes, I can! Just give it to me."  
  
"No!"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"N—" George was interrupted mid-sentence by a figure running up to them.  
  
Gareth of Naxen was bent double, hands on his knees, chest heaving. When he finally looked up, his face was a mask of surprise.  
  
"Tavia!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here? And who's this?"  
  
"Oh, Master Gary! What are you doin' here? This is my, um. . . my brother!" she said, a bit flustered and surprised by his appearance. Gary then noticed the handkerchief in her hand and his face acquired the elegant shade of a ripe tomato.  
  
"I uh, meant to give that back to you, but, uh, when I tried to call you, you were gone, and I didn't know where you lived."  
  
"Aw, come on, lad! You were sleepin' with it in your hands. Go on and just tell her you l—" he broke off laughing and coughing as Tavia drove her elbow into his gut.  
  
"Master Gareth looks tired, why don't you go get him some tea, George?" she suggested in a dangerously too-sweet voice, giving George a meaningful look. George was about to protest but she had already turned back to Gary saying, "Why don't you and I go for a walk in the woods?"  
  
"Uh. . .alright. And please, it's just Gary."  
  
"Of course," Tavia said flirtatiously as she gave him her hand and led him away at a quick trot.  
  
George made a face at her retreating back and proceeded into the house to make tea, grumbling something about tyrants.  
  
Tavia and Gary had not walked far before Tavia pretended to faint, turning so she fell against his chest as he tried to catch her.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asked urgently.  
  
"It's nothing," she said, quickly getting up and turning away, flawlessly playing the part of the helpless maiden. "This sword is a bit heavy, is all." George had dropped the Storm Bringer in his surprise and Tavia had taken it with her. This could make quite a profit, she thought, looking at Gary.  
  
"Of course," he said. "Please allow me to help with that."  
  
"No," she pulled away from him. It wouldn't do to have him discover that it was a broken sword. She urged a tear into her eye. "You see, this was my father's. It's all he left us, and now I have to sell it, lest my brother and I starve."  
  
"Your brother. . .Oh! You mean that young man back there?"  
  
"Yes, I know he seems a bit strange, but the truth is, he has a slight mental problem. That money that you gave me before, it was used to pay for Healers for him. We've been everywhere, but nothing seems to help." At this point, she let the tear fall and Gary gasped.  
  
"That's terrible!" he exclaimed, compassion thick in his voice. I've got him eating out of the palm of my hand, thought Tavia with a satisfied inward smile. Now if only he...She gave herself a mental shake. Where did that thought come from? She pushed the question out of her mind and returned to the task at hand.  
  
"How did you manage all these years?" Gary was saying.  
  
"Well, it's been hard," said Tavia, picking it up smoothly so that Gary didn't notice a thing. "Often, we've had to skip meals. Sometimes, if we were lucky, we could sell a bit of somethin' to get enough for food. But lately, food has gotten more and more scarce. That's why we have to sell this sword." She sniffed.  
  
"How much are you selling it for?" he asked.  
  
"I don't know yet," she said, "I was hoping for maybe...100 gold nobles..."  
  
"Master Gareth," drawled George as he walked out of the kitchen holding a steaming cup on a saucer, "your tea is—" He stopped short as his sharp eyes quickly noticed that both Tavia and Storm Bringer were gone.  
  
George swore.  
  
It wasn't that he didn't trust her. He trusted Tavia with his life, but he also knew her very well. She could and would make money out of anything. He left the cup on the table and hurried after them.  
  
Where he had been very reluctant before, Tavia had gotten him so strung up in the lie that Gary only hesitated for a moment before he reached inside his belt-pouch for the money.  
  
"Here," he said, counting the coin into her hand.  
  
"Thank you so much," said Tavia, her voice grateful. "But when we've used this up, I don't know how we're going to find more..."  
  
"If you ever need more, just come to Naxen and find me," he said.  
  
At that remark, she turned away. "No," she said, "even though we're poor, my father always taught me to respect myself. I will not go beggin' for money."  
  
"Of course," amended Gary hurriedly, afraid he'd offended her. He looked at his purse for a second and then handed the entire thing over to her. "This is all I have on me at the moment," he said, "take it."  
  
Tavia willed herself not to snatch up the entire thing and greedily count its contents. Instead, she handed him the sword and took the purse hesitantly and clutched it to her chest, saying, "Thank you so much, Gary! How could we ever repay you?"  
  
"Tavia!"  
  
The two looked up in and found, to their dismay, that George was running toward them. Of course, each had a different reason for their dismay. Tavia, knowing George as well as he knew her, knew that he would try something to mess everything up. Gary just did not wish to be interrupted during what he felt was a private moment with the woman that he was attracted to.  
  
"The sword—Did you? —What?" he stopped, calming himself down so that he could form a clear question.  
  
"Gary has taken a likin' to the sword and bought it from us," Tavia told him quickly, hoping he wouldn't say something to give them away.  
  
"You sold it? You can't sell that sword!" exclaimed George.  
  
"It's alright," interrupted Gary before Tavia could reply, "I have no intention of keeping your family heirloom, especially one so valuable as this. Here," he handed it to George, "You are lucky to have such a good sister."  
  
"Sister?" he said, confused. Then he looked at Tavia suspiciously. She gave him an innocent look in return that urged him to play along.  
  
"Well," said Gary, "I must get going, my father must be worried sick about me. May I call on you later, Lady Tavia?"  
  
"Of course," responded Tavia coquettishly, "You are welcome at our door any day. And please, it's just Tavia."  
  
George arrived back at his house to find a piece of red veil hanging on the window. He looked at it a bit sadly, taking it as a sign that Alanna had left.  
  
However, he was about to go into the house when he heard bell-like laughter from the side. Looking over to the bridge he had built above the river, he found her standing on it, leaning out to the waterfall. She giggled and recoiled when a large spurt of water came out. She reached out her hands again and tried to catch the droplets.  
  
George stared for a moment, wondering at the amazing picture she made, water falling all around, causing rainbows to flash into view before quickly disappearing until the next spray. Her hair was loose and flowing in the wind. Birds chirped about her and her laughter filled the air with music.  
  
Stop starin'! he scolded himself after realizing that he had been gawping like a fish. She's taken already and you do not need the Prince's wrath on your head. Go back to your life and let her go before you get yourself in far more trouble than you need.  
  
George sighed and walked up to her, putting on a smile as he did.  
  
"Didn't I tell you to stay away from water?" he said in joking reprimand as he approached.  
  
She spun, startled. He had to grab her hand to keep her from tumbling over the edge of the bridge. He led her off the bridge and out of range of the falling water. "Wow," she said, looking back wistfully at the bridge, "Thank you. I didn't hear you come up."  
  
George grinned and said, "Funny how many people tell me that."  
  
"You're so lucky," she said, turning back to the amazing view of the valley. "To live in such a place. It must be heavenly."  
  
George shrugged and said nothing.  
  
They shared a moment of contented silence, Alanna staring at the valley, trying to memorize every detail, knowing that she would probably never get to see it again. Ironically, George was doing the same, but instead of looking over the valley, he was staring at her face.  
  
George reluctantly broke the silence, seeing that the sun was going down. He cleared his throat and said, "You'd best be getting back now, milady."  
  
Alanna looked at the sun as well and gasped, uttering curses as she did, some of which made even George blush. When she realized what she did, she gasped again, her hand flying to her mouth. "I'm sorry about that," she said quickly, blushing. Something's gotten into me today, she thought. I never curse when people are around. "It seems there's something about this place that just seems to make me feel relaxed," she said to George, smiling.  
  
George returned the smile. "No need to apologize, milady, but if I may, where did you pick up such...language?"  
  
Alanna smiled, her eyes twinkling mischievously and said, "My secret."  
  
George laughed and led her to the cave from which they had emerged earlier. They spent the entire walk back trading jokes and talking like old friends.  
  
They arrived back at the fief just as the sun sunk below the horizon. Alanna led them to the back door so that they would not attract too much attention. In the dim twilight hours there was just enough light for them to see their way although she swore that George had the ability to see in the dark. More than once, he steered her out of the way of a ditch or small bump that could have resulted in a painful fall or a twisted ankle.  
  
At the door, they stopped. Alanna stepped up to the doorstep, unlocking and opening the door before turning around. Neither said a word, not really wanting to say good-bye.  
  
"Well," said George after a while, "I'd best be headin' off. Here's your sword," he said, producing the sword he'd been carrying. She took it, looking small and awkward with it. However, even with the large clumsy object, she still maintained her grace, smiling at him appreciatively.  
  
George waved and turned to go, but she suddenly called out, "Wait!"  
  
"What is it?" asked George, turning back.  
  
"You never told me your name."  
  
"Do you really want to know?" he asked. Amusement was in his eyes and as always, they were guarded, seeming to hide many secrets in their hazel depths.  
  
"I must know the name of my rescuer," she replied.  
  
George's replied was interrupted when suddenly, two old men jumped out of nowhere onto the small trail behind George, followed by a squad of guards.  
  
"Ah ha!" exclaimed Wil excitedly. "We caught you! So it WAS you who stole the Storm Bringer and kidnapped Lady Alanna!"  
  
"Your crimes will not go unpunished!" declared Lar, trying to take on a commanding tone and failing miserably.  
  
"Let's see how you get away this time," said Wil, suddenly reaching into one of his many pouches. With a swift movement, he sprayed a powder at George, forgetting, in his excitement, about Alanna.  
  
George saw and felt the danger coming. With his almost supernatural speed, he grabbed Alanna, picking her up bridal style and took off, running deeper into Trebond lands since the other way was blocked. They finally made their way to a garden and hid behind some tall bushes. George put Alanna down, signally for her to be quiet.  
  
A few moments later, they heard shouts and the clanking of many swords. They ran by and headed deeper into the garden. Alanna fought to smother giggles.  
  
"Wow," she said, "they're really stupid."  
  
George grinned, eyes laughing. She, a noble lady, appreciated the hilarity of stupid soldiers. Now THAT was rare.  
  
"I suppose I have to thank you, kind sir," she said formally.  
  
"What for?" asked George, "Savin' your life, or returnin' your sword?"  
  
Alanna shook her head. "Neither," she said, smiling.  
  
"Oh?" George's tone was now amused. "What else have I done that is worth your thanks?"  
  
"I want to thank you because I haven't had this much fun in a very long time."  
  
George gave a surprised laugh at this. "Well then, my lady, we will have to do this again some time. Perhaps next time, we will meet of our own accord instead of me having to rescue you off the horse of a crazy child," he said smiling. "Not," he added, "that I minded, of course."  
  
Alanna laughed. "Yes, we must."  
  
George wanted to kick himself for saying it. There was no way they could meet again after this night. It would not be safe, or wise for that matter. She was to get married to the Prince, the Crown Prince of Tortall, heir to the Tortallan thrown. She could not get mixed up with some riff raff like him. Nonetheless, he still felt an insuppressible sense of elation. A more reckless side of his said, Who cares? He wanted to see her again, and for now, that was all that mattered.  
  
"Give me your hand," he said, remembering something.  
  
"Why?" she asked, even as she stretched out her arm towards him.  
  
He looked at it and grinned saying, "Not that one!"  
  
"Oh," was all she said as she switched hands.  
  
He prodded the cut gently, seeing that it'd swelled a bit, the skin around it slightly pink. He heard her suck in breath sharply as he did so. "Hurts, doesn't it?" he asked.  
  
She nodded slightly, biting her lip. He reached into his belt pouch and took out his medicine again, gently sprinkling a bit onto the cut and blowing it off. He replaced the medicine bottle and pulled out the square of red gauze that she'd left on his window. He ripped it in half and tied one piece around her hand, knotting it securely in place.  
  
"And I'll save the other half for myself," he said, falsely innocent. He really wanted to keep it as a memento of her. He'd said that they should meet again, but the possibility of that was quite slim.  
  
Alanna had not quite caught onto his tone and said only, "Good idea. You get one and I get one." She giggled like a little girl with a secret and George smiled as well. After a moment, he said, "I think they're gone. I believe I should go." He looked around one last time, gave her his trademark, crooked half-grin and left, leaving nothing behind to tell of his passage save for a girl and her dreams.  
  
Later that night, Alanna, Lady Heranna, Wil, and Lar were in Heranna's private study.  
  
"He didn't tell you his name?" Alanna's grandmother asked.  
  
"No," answered Alanna, shaking her head. Then, she remembered something. "Shouldn't we call off the guards?" she asked. "We've already gotten the sword back."  
  
"No," said Heranna sharply. "Tell them to keep searching. In fact, no one is to tell that we've gotten the sword back."  
  
"Of course!" said Lar, understanding. "If they keep searching, no one will believe that we have the sword."  
  
"So no one will come looking for it!" exclaimed Wil, getting it as well.  
  
"But—"  
  
"Alanna," said Heranna, in a half scolding, half condescending tone. "Do you want the Storm Bringer, the sword that our family has fought for generations to protect, the sword that your parents and your brother died for, to be lost because of us?"  
  
Alanna's face turned blank at the mention of her family. All expression was washed off and all she said was, "Fine, I won't say anything."  
  
Heranna nodded, content.  
  
"We ought to blame it on somebody," said Lar, speaking up.  
  
"Ooh, good idea!" said Wil.  
  
"Yes," agreed Heranna.  
  
"And somebody who's not on the right side of the law so that even if he is caught, it would be doing society a favor anyway," said Lar.  
  
"It seems like you have somebody in mind already," said Wil.  
  
"Do you?" asked Lady Heranna, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"The Rogue," said Lar, grinning broadly, "George Cooper."  
  
Alanna watched the entire exchange, not really liking the idea, but believing that her grandmother knew best. She always did. However, she couldn't help but feel sorry for that George Cooper fellow, whoever he was. ((teehee. Anyone catch the irony on that?? I do Mr. Morrison proud! =D))  
  
At the same time that night, Tavia and George sat on a bench under the window of her house, talking and joking as they often did.  
  
"I still can't believe you got that young noble to pay all that for the sword and not even take it!" said George.  
  
"Can't you see?" asked Tavia, "He's enamored with me."  
  
"You?" asked George, laughing.  
  
Tavia stuck out her tongue at him and said, "There isn't a single man out there, except for you," she poked him on the forehead to emphasize her point, "Who could resist my charms."  
  
"That," retorted George, "is because there isn't a single man out there, except for me, that isn't blind!"  
  
"Why you little...I'm gonna get you for that!" she said, poking and tickling him, grinning mischievously.  
  
"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!" said George between laughs as he tried to defend himself against her attack.  
  
There was a knock at the door and both turned to look.  
  
"Tavia," came a familiar voice, "It's Gary. Are you still awake?"  
  
Both stifled their laughs and called a silent truce.  
  
"What's he doin' here?" whispered Tavia.  
  
"Who knows?" answered George, "Maybe he suddenly got his head outta those clouds and came to get his money back."  
  
"Shut up!" she said, smacking him as he stifled more laughter.  
  
"Tavia?" said Gary, "Is everything alright?"  
  
"Uh...yeah. Everything's fine," she called to him, "I-I'm going to sleep now."  
  
"Oh," said Gary, "I'm sorry to disturb you so late, but I was wondering if you'd like to come to the horserace with me tomorrow. A-and your brother can come too, of course." He added the last part on a bit reluctantly.  
  
George and Tavia looked at each other in surprise. Neither had expected that.  
  
"Hm," whispered Tavia to George, "should I go?"  
  
"I don't know. It's up to you, but I'll tell you, that Blizzard is a wild one. I bet even you couldn't handle him." Both knew that, right before the race, Blizzard was going to be put in a ring for people to try and ride him. It was like a miniature rodeo for the people's amusement as all the guests arrived.  
  
Tavia sniffed indignantly. "Well let me tell you, sir, that aside from you, there is no beast that I cannot tame."  
  
"Oh my! I can't be a beast, if I were a beast, I'd bring disgrace upon the family! I suppose I'll have to eat you now."  
  
"How does that work?"  
  
"Well, if I eat you, you won't be alive to feel the shame that I will bring upon you, dear sister," he said, mentioning her earlier lie to the young duke.  
  
She huffed indignantly and began poking him.  
  
Outside, Gary heard muffled giggles and cries of outrage and pain. "Excuse me, my lady, should I come back tomorrow?"  
  
"No, no. That's alright, Master Gareth," she said, pausing her attack to answer. She tried desperately to keep the laughter out of her voice as George tried to tickle her. She smacked him on the head and continued, "I accept your invitation. I would be honored to go. And might I be so bold as to request the young master's service as an escort?"  
  
"Of course!" exclaimed Gary, excitement coursing through his voice. "And the honor is all mine. I will see you tomorrow morning, then. I regret that I cannot come and pick you up myself, but my father requires me to stay and help out with the last minute preparations."  
  
"I understand," she said, forcing some regret into her own voice, "I'll see you there."  
  
"Good night, then," he said.  
  
"Good night."  
  
A/N: okay! I admit, I'm a horrid person. I didn't update in forever and come back with a short chapter (well, short for my standards) but I couldn't not post any longer. Besides, Vera and Peachy were about to skin my alive (well, Peachy would do it for real while Vera would egg her on). In any case, I DO have a bit of the next chapter done! dodges flying objects --; well, enjoy, and, even though I'm a terrible writer and don't update, PLEASE REVIEW!!!  
  
Special thanks to Peachy for forcing me to finally get this done and beta- ing my story!  
  
Verasilyn: hey! I do believe that you didn't review. EVIL!!!  
  
Peachy: well, happy now? I finally updated!! YAY!!!! Confetti drops randomly and people pop out of the walls with the annoying blowing things Now it's your turn. Update convent fic!! And Green Wings!! And post your other one!!  
  
Balloonfuzz: lol. Hope your questions were answered in this chappie. Btw, just as a random fact, did you know that your penname has a lot of double letters? Lol.  
  
Kore Yan: heh. Like the enthusiasm. Lol. Thank you.  
  
FaithfuLightning: thanks for the review! Glad you liked the story. I'm hoping to start updating more often, especially with summer coming up, but unfortunately, teachers tend to like giving out harder work towards the end of the year......  
  
Aurora's Light: thanx!  
  
Youdontneedtoknow: good ole Peachy. Thanks for reading. Hope it doesn't bore you too much.  
  
Tpfreak: Thank you! glad you liked it. I'm hoping to start updating sooner. I blame it all on school. ff.net should ban school!  
  
Blueathame: thanks so much! A/G 4ever!!  
  
Chibi noin: thank you! :-D  
  
SoccerrSweet: er....sry bout the long wait (and I think I took like 5 times longer than a month) but I've updated! And I'll try REALLY hard not to wait so long next time :-D(innocent smile  
  
Weasel Teasel: haha!!! 


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: So sorry for the long wait, kids. :cowers in shame: This chapter, unfortunately, is not particularly amusing, which is part of the reason why it took me so long to write. It might get a bit confusing, so you've been forewarned. They next should be better, though. Maybe some A/G fluff if I'm feeling nice. coughreviewcough ;-)

The next day dawned bright and cheery. Tavia and George arrived at the Naxen Stables with the bulk of the crowd, keeping as low a profile as possible. As soon as they showed up, Gary ran over to them, or rather, to Tavia.

"I'm so glad you made it," said Gary. "I thought you weren't going to come."

"I'm sorry, Gary," said Tavia, batting her eyelashes at him and looking contrite. "We got caught in the crowd and could not get here any faster no matter how hard we tried. Please don't be angry with me."

"Of course not!" exclaimed Gary, "How could I ever be angry with you, fair lady? Your eyes are like gems, gleaming in the autumn twilight…"

_Oh boy,_ thought George. _Here goes the poetry. I wonder what Tavia will do._ He knew that she hated those gushy love poems as much as he did, perhaps more.

She smiled thinly and interrupted him by saying, "Hey, Gary! Is that Blizzard?" She jumped up and down, pointing at the magnificent white stallion.

"…like the ocean on a—What? Oh, yes. That's him. Would you like to get a closer look?" he asked, forgetting about his poetry altogether. _Gotta give her credit,_ thought George, grinning to himself. _Knows just how to shut the guy up, or maybe he's just too dense to notice?_ He shook his head, still smiling in amusement as he walked after them at a slightly slower pace.

They made it to the front of the crowd where everyone was gathered to watch as some people tried their luck at staying on Blizzard. So far, the longest time had been just barely past eight seconds, but the person who had done that ended up unconscious with a broken leg in three places.

The current rider was thrown almost as soon as he got on. There was a pause as the people in the crowd hesitated, each daring his neighbor to get on, but afraid to go himself.

"I can ride this horse," Tavia muttered to George.

"Really?" replied George in equally low tones. He raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Prove it."

Tavia smiled. "My pleasure." She stepped out into the center of the circle.

"What are you doing, Tavia?" asked Gary, having not heard a word of their conversation.

She ignored him and, in one bound, was into the saddle. Blizzard bucked with all his might, using all the tricks he knew. The horse spun to the side, reared, and bucked as soon as it came down. Tavia flew off, landing on her rear. She glared daggers at the horse, who stood over her, looking smugly down at her. She ignored Gary as he rushed over to help her up and leapt back on. Blizzard ran around in a circle, kicking out at the unlucky spectators who were standing too close. He bucked and reared, but this time, Tavia held on.

"She's perfect," George heard Gary sigh dreamily as he watched.

Suddenly, a trumpet sounded and the herald announced the arrival of Lady Heranna and Lady Alanna of Trebond. George, and most of the male population, turned to look. She wore a plain, yet elegant blue day-dress and had a veil on over her face, hiding all but the faintest hints at her profile.

George felt an elbow in his chest and turned to look at Tavia with annoyance. "What did I do this time?" he demanded.

"Why are you starin' at her like that?" she asked him shrewdly.

"What are you talkin' about?" he said again. "Everyone's starin' at her."

"Yeah," she said. "But not like you."

"Give me a break."

"Hmph," she sniffed. "I don't get what's so great about her ladyship anyway."

"You can't expect all girls to be like you, can you?"

"What's wrong with being like me?" she demanded.

George didn't reply, only shuddered.

She hmphed again. "What do you think?" she demanded from Gary.

Startled by her question, he said, "No."

"What!"

"Well," he explained hurriedly. "Everyone can't be like you because then you wouldn't be the unique person that you are."

Tavia, surprised, smiled and blushed slightly.

Meanwhile, the Duke of Naxen hurried forward to greet the newcomers. "My Lady Heranna, you look stunning as ever," he said.

Heranna smiled graciously and said, "Nice to see you haven't changed a bit. Still the same old sweet-talker."

Gareth the Elder laughed and turned to take Alanna's hand. "Ah," he said. "You've grown up so much, Alanna. I remember you when you were just a small child and were out playing with my Gary and the young prince. Gods, you children were a handful to look after. I'm glad you grew out of that stage."

Alanna gave a polite nod and smiled thinly. She was glad for the veil that hid her face from the Duke. She liked the duke, but somehow the mention of her childhood put her in a bit of a sour mood, which actually felt strange to her because she hadn't had any strong feelings of any sort in a long time. She puzzled over this in the back of her mind while giving demure answers and slight, lady-like nods to whatever the duke said.

Suddenly, a commotion interrupted their little conversation. Crown Prince Jonathan of Conté and his train could be seen in the distance, approaching the house of Naxen. The prince looked resplendent in a simple, but well-made white shirt with a gold tunic on top and buckskin breeches. The sleeves of his shirt were hemmed in an intricate gold design and he bore the crest of the royal house over his heart. He looked almost immortal in his splendor.

At his side was his regent, Duke Roger of Conté. They looked very similar, both with coal black hair and deep blue eyes. The duke wore a dark blue cloak of velvet and fine silk breeches. In his hand was his sorcerer's rod, a sapphire stone set into the end. The king had died years ago when Jonathan was only a child. Jonathan's cousin, as next in line to the throne, had stepped in as regent. However, the prince was of an age now, to take the throne. He had made no public move to do so yet, but there had been rumors that Roger had grown uneasy of late and that the young prince was chafing at the restrictions that were placed upon him by his cousin.

Jonathan's young sister, Amelia rode her white palfrey slightly ahead of her brother. She had plain features with freckles on her nose with a pale face and the dark hair of the Conté line. Her eyes were a muddy brown, instead of her brother's piercing blue. She wore a green dress with a slit up the side for easy maneuvering and riding. The palace servants had learned long ago that she would refuse to wear a dress unless she was able to move around in it just as well as she could in breeches. Roger had been adamant in his insistence that she wear a dress to public occasions and so the seamstresses had compromised. She still preferred to wear breeches when at home though, to the endless exasperation of her brother and cousin.

"Try to act lady-like today, will you, Amy?" Jonathan said to her Roger gave a little smile of amusement, but otherwise showed no sign of overhearing their conversation.

She sniffed. "I'll act as I want. If you don't like it, then you can disown me. I'll have more freedom that way anyway." Slapping her horse's rump, she galloped ahead, speeding toward the duchy. When they got close, the horse became suddenly aware of the large crowd of people and became nervous. It balked, side-stepping suddenly so that Emily had to grab onto her saddle horn for purchase. In the process, she pulled the reins to the side, causing the poor mare to turn a tight circle and then charge, confused and dizzy, down the road toward the crowd. As soon as it got to be almost upon the mass of people clustered around to see what was happening, it began to prance nervously from side to side while Emily tried desperately to control it and hold on at the same time. Suddenly, it broke into a sort of trot, slow for a horse, but fast for people who, dressed in all their finery, were surprised by the sudden commotion.

George was watching like everyone else, quite surprised and more than a bit interested if the princess would be able to get the horse calmed down all by herself. Then, when the horse began its blind trot, he realized where the horse was headed: straight for the two ladies of Trebond! The two ladies drew back in horror, realizing about a half a second after he had.

Without a thought, he stepped out in front of the horse, causing it to rear in fright. He easily avoided the flailing hooves and grabbed hold of the reins that had been dropped long ago. "Get down!" he shouted harshly, not caring at the moment that it was to Princess Amelia of Conté.

Despite her situation, the girl shook her head stubbornly. "No!" she shouted back. "I can take care of myself!"

"I'm warning you," he said, his tone impatient. "Get _down_!"

"No!"

Grabbing her wrist, George easily pulled her off the horse and flung her a safe distance from it so that she landed, none to gently, in the dirt. Her expression was one of surprise, quickly overtaken by outrage, but he didn't notice.

He had leapt onto the animal and pulled back on the reins, causing it to half-rear again, but he maintained his balance and loosened his pull on the reins slightly. He crooned to it softly, soothing the animal. The creature still pranced nervously on its feet, but soon settled down. It even bent its head and began to eat the grass, as if by behaving as if he hadn't done anything wrong, everyone would forget.

George dismounted and cocked an eyebrow at the creature. _Yeah, right,_ he thought. _Nice try, but I don't think that innocent look is goin' to cut it this time._ The horse studied him with one liquid brown eye before returning to its grazing. George smiled and patted it on the neck.

Turning, he walked over and bowed to Lady Heranna. "My lady," he said, "I hope that you were not harmed in anyway?"

"We are fine," she answered. "Thanks to your bravery. What is your name, young man?"

George smiled. "The name of a simple commoner is of no importance," he said. "Good day." Abruptly, he stood up and left, disappearing among the crown instantly.

"Now that's a character that you rarely see," murmured Heranna, mostly to herself. "He saves members of a noble family but wants no credit for it." Alanna heard her, but said nothing. She was staring at the spot in the crowd where he had disappeared. She had been unsure at first, when he had leapt onto the horse, because she couldn't catch a clear glimpse of his face. Even when he came to speak with them, he'd kept his head down, hiding his features, but when he'd walked by, she had caught a glimpse of him and he'd winked at her, hazel eyes twinkling merrily for an instant before he was gone. Who was he?

Princess Amelia, who had recovered by now, made to run after him, shouting, "Hey! Come back you low-leveled, rotten scoundrel! How dare you throw me from my own horse! I'll—"

"Enough!" came a commanding voice. The crowd parted to let the Crown Prince through. "Haven't you caused enough trouble for one day?" he whispered quickly to his sister.

"But—"

He gave her a look and she said no more, turning instead to scowl at anyone foolish enough to look her way.

Moments later, the Duke of Naxen had arrived to greet the prince. "Jonathan," he said. "It's so good to see you, nephew."

"Jon smiled. "Uncle," he said. "Always a pleasure. It's been far too long since I was here last."

"Come now," said Gareth the Elder, laughing. "A year is not that long. And besides, you know you are always welcome here."

"Alas," said Jon, "Were it that I had no duties to attend and I would come to stay with you for a summer like I used to when I was a squire." He sighed. "Those were the good ole' days."

"Jon!" exclaimed Gary, coming up and embracing his cousin.

Jon laughed and clapped him on the back. "I missed you too, Gary," he said. "What have you been up to?"

"I'll tell you after the race," he said, grinning broadly. "You're staying, right?"

Jon nodded. "Only for a night, though. Tomorrow I must return to the palace."

"That's right," said Gary. "Getting ready for the big day. Excited? I tell you, Lady Alanna is a real catch. I saw her the other day and…"

Heranna cleared her throat and Gary, seeing her, blushed hotly. "Oh, excuse me, my lady, I was only…"

Heranna smiled in amusement but ignored him. To Jonathan, she dipped a low curtsy, murmuring, "Your majesty." Alanna, behind her, followed suit.

"Come now," said Jonathan, gesturing quickly for them to rise. "We're almost family now. No need to stand on ceremony with me."

Heranna smiled and gently pulled Alanna forward. "Alanna." He said her name like a prayer and she felt strange at the reverence. "I'm glad you came. It's been such a long time. You're looking well. How have you been?"

"I have been fine, and his majesty?" she asked.

"Busy," he said. "And please, just call me Jon. Did you like the gift I sent you?" he asked anxiously. He suddenly looked like any youth anxious to get the approval of a girl. She almost laughed at the thought.

Instead, she said, "Yes, it was lovely." She thought of the hairpin and the image of that strange man came unbidden to her mind. She quickly banished him from her thoughts, just as Gary gave a whoop.

"Is that a blush I see on his royal highness's face?" he teased. Jon punched him on the arm and others chuckled good-naturedly. He smiled at her causing Alanna to look away shyly, glad that the veil covered her blush so that she didn't receive the same kind of torment the prince had. A short while later, Jon excused himself so that he could prepare for the upcoming race and everyone else moved to take their seats to watch the event.

From afar, George watched them speak, feeling strangely betrayed as he saw her smiling and being flattered by the handsome prince of the realm. _What did you expect?_ he asked himself. _For her to fall in love with you, a lowly commoner? Come now, you know better than that._ Sighing wistfully, he found himself a seat on the other side of the racetrack, away from the others who would be watching and concealed behind a thin stand of shrubbery.

The contestants had lined their horses up behind the starting ribbon. Lady Heranna rose and said a small prayer for luck and then murmured a spell that sent a burst of light into the air that let off a loud _Bang!_

The horses were off.

It was a magnificent spectacle to see the crowd of horses surge forward like a wave. They ran flat out across the plain for a few yards before they hit a minefield. Riders and horses had to be highly skilled to bypass the mines that were hidden in the ground. They didn't do any real damage, but a cloud of smoke and dust was sent up each time one of them was activated. A poorly trained horse would balk and if the rider could not control it, they would be thrown or taken off on a wild ride. It was a dangerous sport, but one that trained the horses and riders for battle as well as provided fine entertainment for those who watched.

As the smoke got thick, everyone struggled to see what was going on. Alanna sat with her grandmother, Gary, Tavia (as Gary's guest), and Princess Amelia on a special platform that had been set up for them. The princess was cheering loudly for her brother and everyone else was watching eagerly to see who was in the lead. Even Alanna had gotten caught up in the excitement. However, a stray thought crossed her mind as she wondered how her mysterious rescuer would compare with them and her smile faded slightly.

Finally, two horses emerged out of the smoke: the prince and Raoul of Goldenlake. They were neck and neck, each urging their horses on toward the finish line that was approaching fast.

Right before the end, Jonathan's horse, Darkness broke out in front with an extra bit of speed kept in reserve for the last stretch. He reached out and grabbed the flag that had been stuck at the finish.

The crowds cheered loudly for their prince. Jonathan galloped his horse back to the start with the flag flying behind him in a victorious train. Duke Gareth the Elder congratulated him at the start and Raoul met him there shortly afterward. The two clasped hands good-naturedly.

"Nice race," said Raoul. "I'll get you next year, though."

"Of course," said Jon, laughing.

Two stable hands walked up, leading Blizzard, who'd been groomed until he gleamed in the midday light. Raoul whistled appreciatively. Anyone with a half an eye for horseflesh could tell that they were looking at something special.

The Duke of Naxen chuckled. "We had a time catching this little fellow. He's a wild one, but worth every minute. He was to be a present for the winner of the race, but now I think that I shall give him to this fine lady over here, for both will be yours soon enough. What think you, nephew?"

Jonathan looked at Alanna, who blushed shyly, and he smiled. "Of course. Nothing would please me better."

Gareth the Elder, smiling, turned and offered the reins to Alanna. "Milady," he said.

She took them and smiled at him. "He is a beautiful horse," she said admiringly. "May I take him for a ride?"

Immediately, at least ten people spoke up in protest.

"It's not safe, milady."

"It has not been tamed."

"The horse will throw you for sure!"

However, faced with the opposition, she seemed to become even more stubborn in her decision. "He seems mild-tempered enough," she said, stroking Blizzard's nose lovingly. "I'm sure he'd make for a wonderful ride."

"Lady Alanna," said Jonathan, looking slightly nervous. "At least let me accompany you. It's not safe for you to go all by yourself."

"I assure you, I'll be perfectly all right," she said, slightly peeved that he didn't think she could handle it. Never mind the fact that she hadn't ridden a horse since she was a little girl and even then, it was just her tame little pony, Chubby.

"Let her go, Jonathan," spoke Lady Heranna and all turned to look at her in surprise.

"But…Lady, it is a wild horse!" Raoul protested.

"Alanna can handle herself. She has a knack with creatures," was all the old woman would say. He truth was, this had all been planned out the night before. The horse was a beauty, but it was not Blizzard. It had been born and raised at Trebond. Wil and Lar had been responsible for the switch. Alanna's job was to draw people's attention away from Jon so that Lady Heranna would have a chance to slip Jonathan the sword.

Jon looked at the woman for a moment, his expression unreadable. The Lady was planning something, he knew. Finally, he nodded.

"Of course," he said. "Will you need anything?"

"No," said Alanna. "Thank you, I'll be fine."

Everyone else still seemed to want to argue some more, but no one would dare to go up against the prince's decision, so Alanna was allowed to go on her ride.

All watched in wonder as the animal, so rambunctious before, became as placid as an old mare under her hand. Alanna clicked and the horse began a brisk walk through the gates and onto the path through the forest surrounding Naxen.

A/N: Well, thanks so much for those who've stuck with me and everyone who reviewed. You're probably the only reason I finished this chapter at all. I know that this one was not really up to par, but I promise that things will get better for the next one. I think that things may have gotten a bit confusing at the end. If anyone needs clarification or has suggestions on how to make it easier to understand, feel free to speak up. R&R, please! Thanks!

Peachy: Hola!

Nelka Taomi/SoccerrSweet: So sorry for the long wait. I really am! Thanks so much for reading and not giving up on me completely. )

Azdaha: Thankee!

Kore Yan: Trying! Thanks for reading!

Vera: Shoot, you're right, I did forget that part. Oh well, too late now. Maybe when/if I finish, I'll go back and fix things…And what can I say? Writer's block for this is very common. Translating just gets to be so tedious.

megster: aww, that sucks. I'm really sorry about not updating sooner. I'll try to get the next one up faster. Hope you feel better!

crazylittlekiwifruit-is-too-lazy-to-log-in: Thank you…I think. Ah, laziness. It gets us all sooner or later

Emerald Dragon4: Really? I didn't know that. I would be angry too, especially since this whole Harry Potter fiasco has been blown WAY out of proportion if you ask me. Good book, but not good enough for all of this publicity. Anyway, I'm honored that you reviewed, then. I will try hard to get the next chapter up soon.

musicgirl141: Thanks1 Ah, his paradise. I'm not too good at describing paradises, but I'm glad you liked it.

snow.fantasy::blushes: gracias!

TPfreak: You know, I'm sure that if all the students rose up and mutinied, success would be a sure thing. It's like socialism; the work force should rule and overthrow the ruling class! (of course, that leads to communism, so….) Anyway, thanks for reviewing and sorry again for the wait.

Annmarie Aspasia: Aww, if you die, I'll lose a reader! You can't die! I promise I'll try really hard to update this next one soon. Thanks for reviewing!

The-Princess-06: Haha, I feel special! A/J would have fit at first with the burning brightly one and dark something. That was cool, but their personalities just don't match and George is just so much cooler than Jon! Anyway, thanks for reading! I hope I will not disappoint.


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